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The  sun  shone  in  Mrs.  Marston's  face. 


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The  Closed  Balcony  I 


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BY 


ANNE   GARDNER  HALE 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

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JOHN  GOSS 

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LILLIAN  HALE 


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THE  C.  M.   CL^JLK   PUBLISHING  CO. 
;g  BOSTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 

1907 

i 


Copyright,   1907 

By 

THE  C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO., 

Boston,   Massachusetts, 

U.  S.   A. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


?$ 


"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years  ;  in  thoughts  not  breaths, 

In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 

We  should  count  time  by  heart  throbs  : 

He  most  lives,  who  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts  the  best.' 

Philip  James  Bailey. 


"True  life  is  the  realization  of  the  higher  virtues — justice, 
love,  truth,  liberty,  moral  power — in  our  daily  activitives,  what 
ever  they  may  be." 

Charles  Wagner. 


CONTENTS 

Page 
CHAPTER  I 

AtHillsford 1 

CHAPTER  II 
A  Morning  of  Excitement  ....         19 

CHAPTER  III 
Mistakes  and  Mishaps         .         .         .         .         .         81 

CHAPTER  IV 
Pleasant  Hill 48 

CHAPTER  V 
First  Impressions 69 

CHAPTER  VI 
The  Mordaunts 87 

CHAPTER  VII 
Finding  Out  for  Himself 105 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Mrs.  Sinclair's  Story 124 

CHAPTER  IX 
In  Denver 130 

CHAPTER  X 
Edith's  Surprise 149 

CHAPTER  XI 
Polly  Tells  a  Story 162 


CHAPTER  XII 
Coming  Home  .         .         .         .         .         .177 

CHAPTER  XIII 
A  Happy  Evening 193 

CHAPTER  XIV 
Additions  to  the  Marston  Family         .         .         .'      213 

CHAPTER  XV 
Going  to  a  Party 221 

CHAPTER  XVI 
Sitting  for  a  Portrait 238 

CHAPTER  XVII 
The  Balcony  to  be  Opened  ....       249 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
A  Chain  of  Circumstances  ....       266 

CHAPTER  XIX 
The  Thieves  Receive  their  Punishment         .         .       277 

CHAPTER  XX 
Harold  Discovers  His  Vocation  .         .         .       281 

CHAPTER  XXI 
Willie's  Confession 297 

CHAPTER  XXII 
Dr.  Hamilton  Pays  All  Demands          .         .         .       308 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
A  Blunder  and  its  Correction      .         .         .         .317 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
Courage  and  Perseverance  .         .         .         .328 


ILLUSTKATIONS 


The  sun  shone  in  Mrs.  Marston's  face  Frontispiece 

Page 

a  We  didn't  mean  to  make  so  much  noise,  Oldie 

dear,"  said  Polly 10 

Mr.  Marston  had  Maud  in  his  arms,  fast  asleep  64 

A  small  figure  tottered  out  from  the  dimness  to 

meet  them  .         .         .         .         .         .115 

"  Coming  home!  Coming  home  I"  shouted  Tom  149 
"  So  this  is  the  wheel  of  flame,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin  202 
The  four  Marston  children  rushed  along  the  road  227 

A  vehicle  rushing  past  ....  strikes  against  the 

wheels  of  the  buggy      .         .         .         .         *      269 

He  silently  grasped  his  partner's  hand  .          .       285 

Miss  Maria  saw  him  approaching  and  frightened 
by  his  woe-begone  appearance,  came  down 
the  stairs     .......      324 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

AT  HILLSFOED. 

ON  a  bright  morning  in  early  May,  Mrs.  Philip 
Marston,  a  lady  of  pleasant  face  and  gentle  mien, 
stood  at  the  entrance  of  her  home,  a  fine  old- 
fashioned  house,  in  one  of  the  city's  quiet 
streets.  She  was  gazing  anxiously  at  a  homely 
vehicle  coming  slowly  up  the  carriage-way.  It 
was  the  quaint,  but  comfortable  family  buggy, 
driven  by  a  stout,  middle-aged  man,  her  hus 
band.  At  his  side  sat  a  tall  pale  young  man, 

apparently  about  eighteen  years  of  age 

Harold,  their  eldest  son.  The  young  man  was 
evidently  ill,  for  he  was  closely  wrapped  and 
muffled. 

The  buggy  drew  near  the  door.  The  sun  shone 
in  Mrs.  Marston's  face.  She  put  up  a  hand  to 
shade  her  eyes.  The  eyes  looked  weak  and  tired, 
as  if  from  lack  of  sleep;  and  her  face  was  thin 

i 


2  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and  care-worn.  "  Well,  what  is  your  decision?  " 
she  asked,  in  a  low,  eager  voice,  a  smile  breaking 
over  her  features  as  she  returned  her  husband's 
eager  glance. 

"  I  like  it,"  he  said  quietly.  "  I  want  you  to 
decide.  Get  your  wraps,  for  it  is  cold,  riding.  I 
haven't  much  more  time  to  spare  this  morning 
and  wish  to  know  what  you  think  of  it  as  soon 
as  possible." 

Harold  attempted  to  speak.  A  cough  pre 
vented, a  hard,  convulsive  cough.  When  it 

was  over  he  leaned  back  in  the  buggy,  as  if  ex 
hausted.  With  a  slight  movement  of  his  hands 
he  signified  his  wish  to  alight.  His  father  put 
his  arm  tenderly  about  him  and  assisted  him  un 
til  he  stood  by  his  mother.  He  remained  there 
an  instant,  gazing  sadly  at  the  flowering  shrubs 
near  the  door. 

"  Come,  my  son,"  said  his  mother,  "  it  is 
hardly  safe  for  you  in  this  cool  breeze."  Draw 
ing  his  arm  within  hers,  they  walked  slowly 
through  the  hall. 

"  My  poor,  poor  boy,"  said  Mr.  Marston  to 
himself,  watching  them  till  they  had  passed 
from  sight,  then  pacing  the  driveway  uneasily 
for  a  few  minutes.  Hearing  footsteps  descend 
ing  the  hall-stairs  he  knew  his  wife  was  ap 
proaching,  and  ceased  his  walking.  She  was 
drawing  on  her  gloves  as  she  came,  and  said 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  3 

mournfully,  "  The  dear  fellow  is  so  pleased  with 
the  place ! — But  he  seems  very  feeble  to-day." 

"  Encourage  him  all  you  can,"  returned  her 
husband.  "  A  great  deal  depends  upon  keeping 
up  his  spirits,  Dr.  Houghton  says,  and  if  we 
make  the  change  it  must  be  immediately." 
With  a  sigh,  he  helped  her  into  the  buggy  and 
drove  off  rapidly. 

Mr.  Philip  Marston  was  partner  in  a  com 
mercial  house  engaged  in  the  East  India  trade. 
Though  not  wealthy,  he  had  acquired  property 
enough  to  bring  up  his  eight  children  with  every 
comfort,  and  also  to  spare  something  to  others 
less  favored  than  himself.  He  had  inherited 
from  his  father  a  plain,  old-fashioned  house 
nearly  a  mile  from  the  centre  of  Hillsford,  a 
small  manufacturing  city. 

When  he  first  took  his  wife  there  he  had  many 
misgivings,  for  in  her  parental  home  she  was 
surrounded  with  all  that  could  make  life  enjoy 
able.  The  house  was  comfortable,  and  in  good 
order,  though  in  an  uninteresting  neighborhood, 
among  people  engaged  in  the  factories  and 
workshops.  But  from  its  upper  story  a  fine  view 
of  the  ocean  was  afforded,  and  this,  with  the  sun 
set  stretching  its  glories  along  the  western  cor 
ridor  compensated,  she  declared  frequently,  for 
all  denial  of  the  costly  furnishings  of  her  father's 
mansion.  And  none  could  have  been  blessed 


4  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

with  greater  happiness  than  they  during  the 
twenty  years  in  which  they  had  lived  there. 

Now  a  removal  seemed  impending.  How 
could  they  leave  it — so  dear  it  had  become? — 
The  rooms  where  the  children  were  born;  the 
nursery,  where  the  babies  had  frolicked  and 
taken  their  first  steps;  the  little  chamber  where 
Harold  had  first  lisped  his  prayers;  the  closet 
of  her  daily  devotions;  and  grandmother  Mar- 
ston's  room,  which  seemed  the  very  chamber  of 
peace,  where  in  her  serene  old  age  she  waited 
her  summons  to  a  heavenly  home — how  could  she 
give  them  up? 

But  for  Harold,  her  first-born,  the  pride  and 
joy  of  her  heart,  no  less  than  of  his  father's, 
what  should  she  not  do,  what  would  they  not 
give  for  his  restoration  to  health?  Their  own 
individual  advantage,  comfort,  ease,  should  not 
be  a  feather's  weight  in  the  balance  against  that. 
And  the  boy  should  not  feel  for  a  moment  that  it 
would  be  a  sacrifice  for  her  to  give  up  this  dear 
old  home,  and  the  friends,  so  kind,  in  the  neigh 
borhood.  When  Dr.  Houghton  told  of  Pleasant 
Hill,  a  pretty  farm  in  Pippoton,  an  adjoining 
village,  where  Harold  could  have  clear,  dry  air 
to  breathe  and  healthful  surroundings,  and 
stated  that  it  was  the  only  chance  for  the  boy's 
life,  she  resolutely  crushed  down  her  regrets 
and  went  immediately  about  preparations  for 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  5 

moving  there.  But  she  was  so  quiet  in  all  her 
movements,  Harold  and  his  father  did  not  even 
know  that  she  was  ready  to  acquiesce  in  their 
decision  whatever  it  might  be. 

When  setting  off  with  his  son  this  morning  for 
the  daily  drive,  Mr.  Marston  had  said,  "  I'll  take 
Harold  up  there  and  see  how  he  likes  it,  then 
you  must  go  and  give  us  your  opinion."  Rapid 
growth  together  with  close  application  to  books 
(to  say  nothing  of  severe  athletics  with  his  class 
mates)  had  made  great  inroads  on  Harold's 
strength  the  past  two  years.  His  parents  were 
not  aware  of  his  perilous  condition  till  exposure 
to  a  storm  in  early  April  developed  a  cough. 
At  the  same  time  he  complained  of  feverishness 
and  lassitude.  Then  they  became  alarmed,  and 
called  in  a  physician,  who  prescribed  a  careful 
course  of  outdoor  exercises,  complete  cessation 
of  base-ball  as  well  as  of  study;  if  he  did  not 
improve  soon,  a  change  of  climate. 

When  Mr.  Marston  convinced  the  doctor  that 
a  change  of  climate  was  out  of  the  question,  for 
neither  he  nor  his  mother  could  accompany  their 
son,  nor  would  they  consent  to  his  going  from 
home  alone,  he  ordered  a  few  simple  medicines, 
and  hunted  up  this  healthful  spot,  to  which  the 
father  must  immediately  move  the  whole  family. 

None  but  those  who  have  passed  through  the 
moving  of  a  large  household  to  a  new  home  when 


6  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

illness  in  the  family  absorbs  thought,  weighs 
upon  the  spirits,  and  requires  careful  attention, 
can  have  an  idea  of  the  dismay  and  distress 
which  Dr.  Houghton's  words  gave  Mrs.  Mar- 
ston.  But  she  kept  resolutely  about  her  duties, 
and  cheered  Harold,  no  less  than  herself,  in  find 
ing  all  sorts  of  occasions  for  a  merry  speech  or 
a  gay  little  laugh. 

Lottie,  the  faithful  Swedish  girl,  who  had  been 
in  her  employ  several  years  as  kitchen  help,  was 
ready  to  co-operate  in  all  her  plans.  She  worked 
indefatigably, — cooking,  cleaning,  scrubbing, 
packing,  with  alacrity  and  with  amazing  quiet 
ness. 

Grandmother  Marston  and  the  children,  even 
Edith,  the  eldest  daughter,  were  to  be  kept  ig 
norant,  if  possible,  of  the  change  of  home  till  the 
day  before.  Because  of  the  excitement — which 
would  inevitably  follow  upon  their  knowledge 
of  it,  and  of  the  bad  effect  excitement  would 
have  upon  Harold.  Lottie  was  always  ready  to 
undertake  anything  that  would  be  of  benefit 
to  Harold,  however  arduous  or  unpleasant,  and 
she  did  her  best  to  keep  the  house  quiet  and 
calm.  Susan,  the  nurse-girl,  did  the  same, 
though  in  a  less  agreeable  manner. 

The  seven  other  children,  well  aware  of  the 
illness  of  Harold,  were  usually  as  careful  as  they 
knew  how  to  be  of  his  comfort.  Yet,  what  could 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  7 

be  expected  of  them?  Edith  full  of  the  life  of 
gay  sixteen ;  Tom,  a  year  younger,  quick  in  per 
ception  and  hasty  in  action ;  Roland,  twelve,  and 
Robert,  ten,  as  impulsive  and  as  impatient  of 
restraint,  as  young  colts;  Pollywog  (so  called 
by  her  brothers  because  of  her  clumsiness),  an 
inveterate  blunderer  of  seven  years,  but  the 
kindest  little  soul  in  the  world ;  Tad — Thaddeus, 
according  to  the  family  record,  being  Polly's  al 
most  inseparable  companion,  dubbed  accord 
ingly, — a  mischief  maker  of  six ;  and  Maud,  the 
baby,  not  yet  three,  the  pet  of  the  household. 

All  but  the  baby  were  in  school  five  hours  of 
the  day.  Three  of  the  boys  spent  most  of  the 
time  when  not  in  school,  out  of  doors,  with 
schoolmates.  A  carpenter's  shop  in  the  neigh 
borhood  absorbed  much  of  their  leisure ;  Robert 
was  especially  interested  in  that.  Yet  one  or 
more  of  them  was  somewhere  in  the  house  at  all 
times.  And  in  spite  of  their  mother's  frequent 
plea  for  Harold's  aching  head,  there  was  more 
or  less  merry  chatter,  and  occasionally,  some 
wrangling  among  them ;  and  when  Pollywog  and 
Tad  came  from  school  Susan  was  apt  to  get  into 
a  "  fluster  "  trying  to  control  their  irrepressible 
spirits. 

To-day,  Pollywog  was  the  first  to  appear, — 
her  new  spring  suit  burst  at  the  belt,  the  ribbon 
gone  from  her  hair,  her  whole  appearance  de- 


8  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

noting  more  than  ordinary  commotion.  In  her 
wake  followed  Tad,  his  boots  muddy,  his  stock 
ings  loose,  an  unwholesome-looking  puppy  in  his 
arms.  They  were  on  their  way  to  the  nursery 
and,  it  must  be  confessed,  striving  to  step  lightly 
— Pollywog's  finger  on  her  lips  to  impress  si 
lence  on  Tad. 

But  Tad's  boots  would  creak.  Susan  heard 
the  creak.  "  That  boy'll  wake  the  baby,"  she 
growled  to  herself,  "  An'  then  there'll  be  a  rum 
pus." 

She  rushed  into  the  upper  hall,  upsetting  her 
works tand  as  she  went.  All  the  spools  trailed 
after  her,  rolling  out  their  thread,  like  so  many 
demoralized  spiders,  till  they  went  bouncing  and 
bounding  down  the  hall-stairs.  Glancing  back 
ward,  with  a  scowl  and  a  groan  she  tried  to  save 
a  few  from  their  precipitous  course.  Tad's  bob 
bing  head  coming  up  and  the  burden  he  carried 
claimed  her  attention. 

"  Taddie  Marston ! "  she  exclaimed,  forgetful 
of  Lottie's  charge  to  keep  the  children  still, 
"  What  have  you  brought  Will  Leonard's  dog 
here  for?  " 

"  Tain't  Will's.  It's  mine.  Bought  with  my 
whistle'n'  popgun,"  said  Tad. 

"  You  can't  bring  it  upstairs." 

"It's  upstairs  now,"  drawled  Pollywog. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  9 

Maud's  voice  was  heard  calling  "  Tad !  my 
Taddie ! " 

"  There !  you  dreadful  children !  Now  you've 
waked  the  baby,  and  she  hasn't  had  half  a  nap," 
was  Susan's  response. 

To  add  to  the  confusion  the  dog  yelped  pit- 
eously. 

"  Take  the  ugly  thing  away !  "  cried  Susan. 

"  He  isn't  ugly.  He's  poor.  I  guess  that's  the 
reason  you  don't  like  him,"  said  Tad 

But  Susan  didn't  hear  what  he  said,  for  Maud 
was  screaming  for  "  Taddie,  my  Taddie ! "  and 
for  Susan  to  take  her  up,  and  she  had  hurried 
back  to  the  nursery. 

Lottie,  busy  in  the  parlor,  left  her  scrubbing 
brush  on  the  floor,  wiped  her  hands  on  her  apron 
and  came  softly  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  where 
the  two  children  stood — irresolute — longing,  yet 
scarcely  daring  to  brave  Susan's  anger  by  going 
to  the  nursery. 

"Why,  Polly  Mar'sen!"  she  whispered. 
"  Don't  you  know  what  you'  papa  say  erbout 
bein'  a  good,  quiet  girl  now  Harol'  ees  seeck?  I 
fought  you  won't  do  so." 

"  I  didn't  make  a  noise,"  said  Polly. 

"  Eet  was  t'poppy,  t'en.  Now,  Taddy  boy,  you 
giv'me  t'e  car'  of  t'e  pore  creetur'.  Some  nice 
col'  meat  in  t'e  pahntry  for  him,  now." 

"  You're  awful  kind,  Lottie,"  said  Tad.    "  I'll 


io  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

go  with  you.  He's  half-starved — that's  why  I 
bought  him."  Of  course  Polly  went  too. 

Harold  was  in  his  reclining  chair  at  the  gar 
den  end  of  the  hall,  his  half-closed  eyes  lan 
guidly  taking  in  the  beauty  of  the  blossoming 
peach-trees  near  the  window  there. 

Lottie,  followed  by  the  children  on  tiptoe, 
went  through  the  parlor.  They  were  obliged  to 
pass  by  Harold  on  their  way  to  the  pantry. 

"  We  didn't  mean  to  make  so  much  noise, 
Oldie  dear,"  said  Polly,  putting  her  arms  around 
Harold's  neck  and  kissing  his  forehead.  "  Is 
your  head  worse?  " 

"  I  guess  not,"  he  said  with  a  little  low  laugh. 

"  I'm  awful  sorry  you're  sick,"  said  Tad.  He 
thought  kissing  babyish,  so  he  only  patted 
Harold's  cheek,  and  held  the  dog  towards  him. 

"He's  not  pretty,  is  he,  Tad?"  said  Harold, 
as  he  stroked  the  puppy's  shaggy  ears. 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  Tad.  "  But  he's  a  dun 
animal,  and  I  wanted  to  be  kind  to  him.  Papa 
says  we  must  be  kind  to  dun  animals.  Will 
Leonard  was  teasing  him  awfully — made  him 
cry.  And  he  hasn't  given  him  half  enough  to 
eat, — see  how  thin  he  is." 

He  held  the  dog  for  Harold's  inspection.  "  He 
is  a  dun  animal,  surely,"  said  Harold ;  "  he's 
neither  brown  nor  black." 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  dun  animal  the  very  minute 


"We  didn't  mean  to  make  so  much  noise,  Oldie  dear," 
said  Polly. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  11 

I  saw  him,"  said  Polly,  "  because  I've  learned 
about  that  color  in  my  definitions.  "  N'  I  told 
Taddie  we  ought  to  be  kind  to  him  if  Will 
wouldn't." 

"  An'  I — an'  I — I  " — stammered  Tad,  in  haste 
to  set  himself  right  in  Harold's  eyes,  "  I  wasn't 
going  to  be  mean,  so  I  didn't  say  anything  about 
being  kind,  only  asked  Will  what  he'd  take  for 
him.  He  said  he  wanted  my  pop-squirt,  and  I 
gave  it  to  him, — and  my  bird  whistle,  too." 

Tad  stretched  himself  to  his  greatest  height 
when  he  had  finished,  as  if  conscious  of  great 
magnanimity  in  bargaining. 

Lottie  had  come  softly  from  the  pantry  and 
stood,  beckoning,  in  the  dining-room  door. 

"  Come  Tad,"  said  Polly,  "  let's  go  and  feed 
him — Lottie's  waiting." 

Harold  detained  her  a  moment,  laying  his  thin, 
pale  hand  on  her  wavy  brown  locks.  "Polly- 
wog,  my  dear"  he  said,  "what  has  happened? 
I  used  to  have  a  little  sister,  and  her  name  was 
Pauline  " — 

"  Pauline  Maria  Marston,  Oldie.  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  call  me  Pollywog,  ever.  I  don't  care  if 
all  the  rest  do — every  one,"  she  said  hurriedly, 
tears  coming  into  her  eyes. 

Harold's  hands  were  stroking  and  trying  to 
smoothe  her  disordered  hair  as  he  went  on, 


12  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Pauline  Maria  Marston  was  a  tidy  little  girl, 
she  kept  her  pretty  hair  neatly,  and — " 

"O  Oldie,  dear!  Is  it  pretty?"  she  broke  in 
again.  "  I  never  knew  before  that  it  is  pretty. 
Nobody  ever  told  me  so.  Susan  says  it  is  ugly 
and  dreadfully  bothersome." 

She  felt  of  her  belt.  "  I  knew  that  button 
would  come  off  the  first  thing — told  Susan  so; 
and  she  said  it  would  stand  the  racket  one  more 
day." 

"  The  racket?  "  asked  Harold. 

"Yes,  that's  what  she  calls  things  when  I 
play.  We  had  a  splendid  game  of  walls  of 
Quebec,  and  that  button  just  flew  off,  all  itself, 
when  Lizzie  Murray  and  May  Nelson  took  me 
into  the  ring." 

Lottie  having  given  Tad  food  for  the  puppy 
and  seen  them  in  quiet  content  sitting  on  the 
garden  steps,  returned  to  her  work.  At  Harold's 
suggestion  she  took  Polly  to  the  nursery  and  re 
paired  damages;  Susan,  looking  on  sulkily  the 
while.  She  left  her  amusing  Maud  with  a  long 
story  about  the  poor  dun  animal  to  which  they 
must  all  be  kind;  and,  finally,  good,  faithful 
Lottie,  took  up  her  scrubbing  brush  again. 

The  carpet  had  been  removed  from  the  parlor 
floor  and  the  furniture,  its  linen  coverings  ad 
justed  and  securely  fastened,  was  in  the  library 
when  Edith  came  from  school.  "  What  does  this 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  13 

mean?"  she  said,  running  in  to  Lottie.  "I 
thought  you  finished  spring  cleaning  last 
month." 

"  I  fought  so  too,"  said  Lottie.  "  Seechness 
makes  it  to  do  now,"  and  again  her  brush  was 
cast  aside,  for  the  door  bell  rang  and  she  must 
answer  its  summons. 

Mrs.  Nelson,  a  neighbor,  had  called  with 
flowers  and  a  glass  of  jelly  for  Harold.  She 
saw  Edith  in  the  library,  and  passed  by  Lottie 
impetuously — "  Do  tell  me,  Edith ! "  she  ex 
claimed,  "  if  the  report  is  true? — Is  your  father 
really  going  to  take  you  all  up  to  that  dismal 
Pleasant  Hill?" 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Edith.  "  Pve 
heard  no  such  report." 

"  This  looks  like  it — all  this  disarray  of  furni 
ture  and  things,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Nelson  this  morn 
ing,  I  didn't  believe,  I  wouldn't  believe  such  a 
ridiculous  story.  But  I  wanted  to  '  make  as 
surance  doubly  sure,'  as  Shakespeare  says, — 
you  read  him,  my  dear,  I  suppose?  " 

Edith  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh !  you  ought — at  school,  at  least.  I  knew 
most  of  his  plays — the  best  ones — before  I  was 
your  age." 

"  I  haven't  time — with  my  other  studies.  Papa 
says  a  person  should  be  twenty  years  old  and 


14  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

well-informed  on  other  matters  before  taking  up 
Shakespeare." 

"  What  matters — for  instance?  " 

"  He  hasn't  said.  And,  besides,  I  have  my 
music." 

"  Ah,  well.    Get  it  into  your  heart — 

'  The  music  in  my  heart  I  bore 
Long  after  it  was  heard  no  more  1 ' 

"  That's  Wordsworth.  You  could  apprec 
iate  him,  I'm  sure.  But,  there's  your  mother, 
a  word  or  two  with  her,  and  I  must  go." 

Mr.  Marston  had  driven  the  buggy  to  the 
door;  Mrs  Marston  alighted  just  as  Mrs.  Nelson 
came  out.  They  shootk  hands  cordially,  and 
Mrs.  Nelson  soon  found  that  the  report  was 
true — they  would  move  in  a  few  days.  Though 
not  precisely  what  she  would  have  chosen  for  a 
residence  she  was  sure  the  children  would  enjoy 
living  at  Pleasant  Hill,  and  it  was  the  best  that 
could  be  done  for  Harold ;  "  Consideration  for 
his  comfort  and  health  is  now  our  paramount 
duty,"  remarked  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  But  the  dreadful  stories  about  the  place — its 
closed  balcony  and  the  fiery  wheel,  and  the  ter 
rible  wires,  and  all ! "  returned  Mrs.  Nelson. 
"  How  can  you  go  there  to  live?  " 

"  I  have  never  listened  to  those  stories,"  re- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  15 

turned  Mrs.  Marston.  "  Pippeton  gossip  never 
troubled  me." 

"  Of  course  it  is  for  Harold ;  but  we  are  not 
obliged  to  sacrifice  ourselves  for  our  children; 
and  there  is  no  command  to  do  better  by  others 
than  to  ourselves,"  said  Mrs  Nelson. 

"I  hold  that  by  doing  better  to  others  than  to 
ourselves ;  that  is,  by  denying  self,  we  reap  a 
higher  good,  and  so  there  can  be  no  real  self- 
sacrifice,"  responded  Mrs.  Marston. 

"Ah?  I  don't  agree  with  you  there.  I  never 
could  make  of  sacrifice  a  delight.  How  is  it  with 
you,  Mr.  Marston?  "  was  Mrs.  Nelson's  rejoinder, 
with  a  gay  little  laugh. 

Though  Mr.  Marston  appreciated  this  neigh 
bor's  frequent  kindnesses,  he  disliked  her  when 
in  what  he  called  her  "  quotation  mood,"  and 
with  merely  a  polite  bow  he  drove  to  the  stable. 

Mrs.  Nelson  soon  passed  on  her  homeward 
way  and  Mrs.  Marston  went  into  the  house.  By 
this  time  Lottie  had  finished  the  scrubbing  and 
returned  the  furniture  to  the  parlor. 

Edith  had  remained  in  the  library,  which 
was  now  in  its  usual  condition.  She  had  taken 
down  Wordsworth  to  find  the  verse  Mrs.  Nelson 
had  quoted,  and  stood  on  the  step-ladder  before 
the  corner  shelves  when  her  mother  entered.  So 
absorbed  was  she  in  reading — going  rapidly 
from  page  to  page — in  her  eagerness  at  this  new 


16  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

delight — that  Mrs.  Marston  had  spoken  three 
times,  mentioning  different  objects  of  interest 
she  had  noticed  during  her  drive,  before  she 
could  arrest  her  attention.  At  last  Edith  looked 
around  toward  her  mother,  the  book  still  open 
her  fingers  keeping  her  place  in  the  poem, 
"  What  did  you  say  about  a  lovely  little  lake, 
mama?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh !  I  merely  mentioned  that  with  other  at 
tractions  the  country  has,  where  your  father  has 
taken  me.  The  river  just  beyond  the  meadows 
was  a  picture  by  itself  with  its  pretty  arched 
bridge  and  the  boats  going  up  and  down. 
There's  a  fine  view  of  it  from  Pleasant  Hill, — 
I  think  there  is  a  road  leading  to  it  back  of  the 
orchard. " 

"  Is  that — are  we  really  going  to  move?  and 
to  Pleasant  Hill?  Mrs.  Nelson  had  heard  a  re 
port  of  our  moving — and,  perhaps,  going  there." 

"  You  would  like  it,  daughter,  I  think." 

The  color  flushed  into  Edith's  cheeks,  there 
was  a  troubled  light  in  her  bright  blue  eyes. 
She  did  not  speak,  but  looked  with  quivering 
lips  at  her  mother's  unusually  sober  face. 

Mrs.  Marston  turned  her  gaze  to  the  window 
and  to  the  well-kept  lawn.  Nothing  more  was 
said  for  a  full  minute.  At  last  Edith  spoke  in  a 
dissatisfied,  querulous-  tone,  "A  dismal  farm, 
she  called  it — Mrs.  Nelson  did." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  17 

"  I've  told  you  something  of  its  surroundings, 
dear,"  said  her  mother,  seating  herself  at  the 
window,  and  again  looking  anxiously  toward 
the  girl.  "  The  house  seemed  pleasant,"  she 
went  on ;  "  it  must  be  very  comfortable  and  cozy. 
I  supose  you'll  be  sorry  as  I  am  to  leave  this 
dear  home.  But  your  father  and  I  feel  that  for 
Harold's  sake  it  must  be  done." 

"  For  Harold?  Why,  mother,  I  didn't  know, 
I  didn't  think  he  was  so  sick  as  ihatf"  She 
saw  something  in  her  mother's  face  that  caused 
her  to  replace  the  book  and  hasten  to  her  side. 
Passing  her  arm  across  her  shoulders  she  laid 
her  cheek  to  hers  and  said  in  a  tearful  voice — 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  be  cross,  mother  dear.  I'll 
try  to  like  it ;  of  cours-e  I  will.  But  how  differ 
ent  everything  will  be.  Yes,  there  must  be  a 
great  deal  in  Pippoton  that  is  lovely;  but  no 
body  there  that  we  know ;  and  Pleasant  Hill  is  so 
far  from  Hillsford!  Don't  you  think  Oldie  will 
miss  his  friends  dropping  in  every  day,  and  be 
lonesome?" 

"  If  his  health  improves,  which  we  hope,  he 
will  find  so  much  to  occupy  his  mind  and  his 
time  he  won't  be  lonesome.  You  mustn't  let  him 
think  for  a  moment  that  going  there  is  a  hard 
ship.  No  more  tears,  dear.  Run  along  now  and 
see  what  you  can  do  for  him.  I  must  go  to 
grandmother;  she  will  want  to  know  our  deci- 


i8  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

sion.  Fm  afraid  she  is  feeling  sadder  about  it 
than  we.  You  know  she  is  never  contented  a 
day  out  of  Hillsford,  and  she  has  lived  so  long 
in  this  house  it  will  be  difficult  for  her  to  feel 
at  home  in  any  other." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  19 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  MORNING  OF  EXCITEMENT. 

HAROLD  passed  a  sleepless  night;  towards 
morning  suffered  from  a  hectic,  was  struggling 
with  a  succeeding  chill  when  his  mother  came 
to  his  chamber.  Shocked  by  his  appearance  she 
forgot  her  usual  prudence  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh ! 
my  dear  boy,  how  ill  you  look!  Why  did  I  let 
you  do  so  much  yesterday?" 

"  I  am  miserable.  Tell  father  I'll  not  take  a 
drive  to-day, — will  save  my  strength  for  to-mor 
row.  Don't  you  think  I  ought  to  keep  in  bed — 
just  for  to-day — there'll  be  so  much  going  on?" 

"  It  will  be  wise,"  she  said,  then  went  im 
mediately  to  urge  her  husband  to  hasten  the 
moving. 

It  was  well  he  didn't  speak  of  it  to  the  chil 
dren  till  breakfast  was  half  over,  for  neither 
Polly  nor  Tad  could  eat  another  morsel  when  he 
told  them,  and  their  questions  came  so  thick  and 
fast  others  at  the  table  had  difficulty  in  finish- 


20  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ing  the  meal.  Finally,  they  were  advised  to 
hunt  up  the  puppy  and  give  him  something  to 
eat. 

The  first  thing  in  the  morning  they  had  gone 
to  the  shed  where  they  had  put  him  for  the 
night;  but  he  wasn't  there.  The  breakfast  bell 
rang  so  soon  they  hadn't  time  to  look  for  him — 
so,  bemoaning  his  loss,  they  had  come  to  the 
table  and  the  talk  about  moving  had  banished 
him  from  thought.  They  were  glad  to  be  re 
minded  of  him,  however. 

"  He  is  probably  hiding  somewhere  in  the  gar 
den,"  said  their  mother,  "  Go  and  look  among 
the  bushes." 

"  Oh !  stay !  "  cried  Tom ;  "  I  had  a  glimpse  of 
him,  as  I  came  down  stairs,  chasing  Mrs.  Nel 
son's  kitten  in  her  clothesyard." 

"  Don't  go  over,"  said  their  father,  "  call  him 
— call  him  from  the  fence." 

"  I'm  afraid  he  hasn't  learnt  his  name  yet," 
said  Polly.  "  He's  only  had  it  since  last  night." 

"  What  is  his  name?  "  asked  Edith. 

"  Duncan, — Oldie  gave  it — Susan  wouldn't — 
said  she  didn't  know  any  dogs'  names." 

"  That's  a  good  name,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  as 
Tad  left  the  table. 

"  It  isn't  a  pretty  name,"  said  Polly.  "  But 
he  isn't  a  pretty  dog,  you  know." 

"  You  see,  papa,  it  fits  him,"  said  Tad,  "  be- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  21 

cause  he's  a  dun  animal  and  we  can  keep  him 
— Dun-can." 

"  Oldie  thought  it  out  all  in  a  minute,"  said 
Polly.  "  Don't  you  think  our  Oldie  has  bright 
thoughts?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  often.  I'm  glad  the  puppy  has 
such  a  name;  yet  I  want  you  to  know  that  you 
must  call  him  a  dumb  animal.  You  misunder 
stood  the  word  when  I  spoke  about  being  kind. 
Still,  he  is  a  dun  animal,  because  he  is  brown; 
he  is  a  dumb  animal  because  he  can't  speak." 

"  Dogs — and  puppies — can  be  taught  to 
speak,"  said  Polly.  "  Perhaps  we  can  teach 
him  to  speak  for  his  food,  Dr.  Houghton's  dog 
does." 

"  There,  there,  children,"  said  their  mother ; 
"  run  along  and  find  him." 

"  I  must  hasten,"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "  I  want 
to  call  on  Mr.  Walcott  to  talk  about  the  younger 
children — they  must,  for  the  present,  go  to  the 
Pippoton  schools.  Thomas  and  Edith  will  re 
main  where  they  now  are, — Darley  is  to  drive  me 
every  morning  and  they  can  come  too." 

Roland  and  Robert  were  so  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  moving  that  when  Polly  and  Tad 
went  in  search  of  the  puppy  they  slipped  si 
lently  from  the  table  to  go  to  their  grandmother's 
room  to  tell  her  the  news. 

It  was  a  lovely,  old-fashioned  room,  with  its 


22  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ancient  cornice  and  chimney  piece  of  carved  oak, 
and  its  quaint  wall-paper,  on  which  a  shepherd 
boy  piped  continually  to  a  few  lazy  sheep  and  a 
dainty  little  maiden  always  held  her  distaff;  its 
fireplace  of  pictured  tiles,  of  which  the  babies, 
one  after  another,  had  learned  the  stories;  and 
the  big  shining  balls  of  the  brass  andirons,  in 
which  the  same  babies  had  stared  and  laughed 
at  their  distorted  features;  the  fender,  which 
kept  the  toddlers  from  the  dangers  of  the  fire 
while  they  stood  at  grandma's  knee  and  watched 
the  sparks  that  the  blazing  log  hurried  up  the 
black  flue,  and  with  her  counted  how  many  of 
the  sparks  were  people  going  to  church,  and 
which  was  the  "  parson  "  and  which  the  "  clerk." 
And  here  were  grandmother's  treasures;  the 
portrait  of  her  son,  the  children's  father,  when 
he  was  a  small  boy  with  brown  curling  hair  and 
very  red  cheeks,  in  a  large  frilled  white  collar, 
a  blue  velvet  coat,  brown  trousers  that  reached 
to  his  ankles,  white  stockings,  and  blue  morocco 
ankle  ties;  an  orange  in  one  hand,  a  book  in  the 
other.  The  portrait  of  their  aunt  Maria,  in  the 
same  style  of  painting,  with  golden  hair,  large 
blue  eyes,  and  a  pink  and  white  complexion,  in 
a  dress  of  white,  thin  material,  lace  at  the  neck 
and  on  the  arms.  She  was  married  and  now  lived 
in  Colorado.  A  crayon  likeness  of  their  uncle 
James,  a  retired  sea-captain,  now  an  East  In- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  23 

dian  merchant,  doing  business  in  Calcutta.  He, 
too,  was  married,  and  had  his  family  with  him. 

Here  were  specimens  of  grandmother's  skill 
in  embroidery  and  painting :  the  parting  of  Hec 
tor  and  Andromache,  done  in  satin-stitch  while 
at  boarding  school;  Rebecca  at  the  Well,  in 
worsteds,  a  flower-piece  in  water  colors,  and  the 
vale  of  Chamouny  in  oils.  All  these  had  been  the 
admiration  of  her  grandchildren  in  their  early 
years,  and  their  kindly  comments  were  dear  to 
the  old  lady's  heart.  The  tall  secretary  with 
its  brass  handles  and  key-pieces,  and  its  deep 
drawers  holding  so  many  wonderful  things, — 
cases  of  old-fashioned  jewelry,  rolls  of  ribbon, 
cards  of  costly  lace;  one  drawer  full  of  all  sorts 
of  queer  toys  and  dolls  that  had  seen  much 
handling  and  were  yet  capable  of  affording 
amusement  to  the  little  ones;  and  even  a  con 
fectionery  drawer  where,  at  all  times,  visitors 
were  welcome  to  help  themselves  to  its  sweets, 
a  privilege  not  by  any  means  neglected. 

Mrs.  Marston,  as  usual,  had  arranged  the  pil 
lows  at  grandmother's  back.  She  still  wore  her 
white  muslin  night-cap,  its  crimped  border 
snugly  drawn  around  her  silver  hair  and  yet 
comely  face.  Mrs.  Marston  had  pinned  her 
breakfast  shawl  over  her  shoulders  to  guard 
against  chill,  and  handed  her  her  glasses.  The 


24  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

glasses  did  not  wholly  hide  the  happy  light  in 
her  handsome  eyes,  and  a  sweet  smile  broke  over 
her  refined  features  as  the  boys  entered. 

"  Good  morning !  "  shouted  Robert,  springing 
to  the  bed,  and  nearly  smothering  her  with 
kisses.  "  Oh !  you  beautiful  grandma !  "  he  cried, 
as  she  returned  his  caresses ;  *  'You  are  the  best, 
the  dearest  old  lady  in  the  world ! " 

Roland,  less  demonstrative,  contented  himself 
with  squeezing  her  hand  and  retaining  it,  merely 
remarking  that  he  was  sorry  to  be  too  late 
to  bring  up  her  breakfast. 

"  And  we  shan't  have  another  chance,  do  you 
know?"  said  Robert,  "because  we  are  going 
to  move  out  of  this  house." 

"  Yes,  dear,"  she  replied,  looking  kindly  upon 
him,  but  stroking  tenderly  Roland's  hand  that 
held  hers. 

"Do  you  feel  bad?  are  you  sorry?  I  hope 
not,  because  its  going  to  be  the  best  thing  for 
Oldie.  And  I'm  sure  it  will  be  fine  for  the  rest 
of  us.  And  you  know  you  ought  to  be  glad  for 
other  people's  happiness." 

He  had  seen  a  far-away  look  in  his  grand 
mother's  eyes — something  he  had  never  seen  be 
fore — and  the  smile  had  died  out  of  her  face  as 
she  stroked  Roland's  hand,  so  he  had  rattled  on, 
scarcely  aware  of  what  he  was  saying. 

She  did  not  reply  but  raised  her  eyes  to  her 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  25 

daughter's  portrait  and  seemed  lost  in  thought. 

"  It's  too  bad  for  you,  grandma,  dear,"  said 
Koland.  "  Perhaps  we'll  come  back  here  when 
Harold  is  well  again — I  guess  we  could." 

She  shook  her  head  solemnly,  and  Robert 
went  to  the  window  and  looked  into  the  garden. 
Polly  and  Tad  were  there  romping  with  the  dog, 
under  the  blooming  pear  and  cherry  trees.  He 
had  heard  his  father  say  that  grandmother  had 
helped  set  out  those  trees  and  but  for  the  care 
she  gave  them  through  several  years  they  could 
not  have  attained  their  present  vigorous  condi 
tion. 

"  If  there  aren't  trees  up  there,  I  mean  to  ask 
papa  to  get  some,  and  we'll  make  a  garden  just 
like  this.  You'd  like  that — wouldn't  you 
grandma?"  he  said  coming  again  to  her  bed 
side. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Bertie.  It  would  be  very  pleas 
ant.  When  your  mother  first  told  me  that  we 
were  to  move  to  Pleasant  Hill,  and  on  account 
of  Harold's  health,  I  thought  so  much  about 
your  poor  sick  brother,  I  hadn't  any  idea  of 
the  change  it  would  be  for  me.  But  when  I  look 
around  this  room  I  begin  to  realize  it;  and  I 
want  you  boys — I  want  all  the  children — to 
help  me  bear  the  change  cheerfully;  and  what 
you've  said  about  the  trees  shows  me  that  you 
understand  how  I  feel  and  will  try  to  help  me." 


26  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Both  the  boys  looked  very  sober  while  she  was 
speaking.  There  was  deep  silence  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  roused  herself.  "  Oh !  boys,  let  us  re 
member,  we  shall  have  something,  all  of  us,  to 
take  the  place  of  what  we  leave  here.  We  shall 
find  compensation  for  trial  and  loss — we  always 
do,  at  every  step  of  the  way  through  life.  We 
can  have  just  as  much  happiness  at  Pleasant  Hill 
as  we  have  had  here,  and  it's  coming  to  us  by 
helping  each  other  to  be  happy.  Now  run  along 
to  school,  boys — don't  be  late  this  last  day  with 
your  mates  there." 

Glancing  at  the  dial  of  the  church  clock  at  the 
street  corner  Koland  said — "  Let's  tell  Mr.  Good 
win.  There's  time  enough  if  we  hurry." 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Goodwin !  Mr.  Goodwin ! "  ex 
claimed  both  as  they  entered  the  carpenter's 
shop  "  Don't  you  think,"  began  Robert. 

"  I'm  the  oldest,  let  me  speak  first,"  cried  Ro 
land,  in  his  eagerness  laying  his  hand  on  his 
brother's  mouth  for  an  instant — "we're  go 
ing  "— 

"  Quit  that ! "  said  Robert,  dashing  the  hand 
aside. 

"  Come,  come,  boys,"  I  thought  you  never 
quarrelled,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin. 

"  Everybody  has  to  stand  up  for  his  rights, 
and  everybody's  entitled  to  free  speech,  Mr.  Wil- 
cott  says — free  speech  in  America,  I  mean  ;  and 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  27 

Roll  had  no  business  to  stop  my  mouth,"  re 
turned  Robert. 

"  Tisn't  a  quarrel,"  said  Roland,  quite  sub 
dued,  his  face  very  red — as  if  he  were  ashamed 
of  what  he  had  done. 

"  Bad  manners,  if  it  wasn't  quarrelling,"  said 
Mr.  Goodwin,  setting  aside  the  strip  of  board  he 
had  planed.  "  I've  always  said  the  Marstons 
had  good  manners.  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it 
of  you ;  and  one  is  as  bad  as  the  other." 

He  looked  very  grave.  Taking  up  another 
strip  of  board,  he  laid  it  on  his  bench,  his  dark, 
steady  eyes  resting  alternately  on  that  and  then 
on  the  boys,  as  he  prepared  for  planing. 

The  silence  was  uncomfortable. 

"  Manners  show  what  stuff  a  person  is  made 
of,"  he  said  at  last,  seating  himself  on  the  bench. 

"  Stuff?  "  asked  Roland,  humbly. 

"  Yes,  what  he  is  inside,  what  sort  of  a  heart, 
and  conscience  he  has.  A  big,  warm  heart  and 
quick,  clear  conscience — " 

He  folded  his  arms  as  he  hesitated  a  moment 
then  went  on,  "  Yes,  what  I've  thought  you  both 
had — give  good  manners.  I  know  knotty,  cross- 
grained  stuff  never  makes  a  good  show ;  I  want 
smooth,  solid  stuff  for  that.  I'm  afraid  I've 
come  across  knots  and  coarseness  in  you  both 
this  morning.  Sorry,  sorry — very  sorry." 

He  shook  his  head  and  began  planing  again. 


28  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Roland  and  Robert  looked  very  soberly  at  each 
other.  Then  Robert,  somewhat  confused  picked 
up  a  pine  shaving  as  it  fell  from  Mr.  Goodwin's 
plane.  Winding  it  round  his  hand,  he  said 
slowly,  "  Roll,  you  may  tell,  you  ought,  because 
you  are  the  oldest." 

"  Oh,  now,  I  say,  Bertie,"  came  the  tremulous 
response.  "  No,  no.  No  matter  if  I  am  older 
than  you ;  you  can  talk  faster  than  I  can." 

Mr.  Goodwin,  pleased  by  this  dawn  of  kind 
feeling,  said,  "  Well,  Robert,  I'm  listening,  I  can 
hear  and  work  too." 

"  We're  going  to  move,  father's  bought  a  farm. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?  Fine,  isn't  it?" 
and  the  boy's  face  glowed  with  the  delight  he 
felt. 

"  That  depends.  Why  does  your  father  leave 
here?  Isn't  it  a  sudden  change?  " 

"  You  ought  to  do  all  you  can  for  your  family, 
don't  you  think?"  said  Roland,  rather  timidly, 
"  even  if  it  comes  sudden." 

"  I  suppose  if  I  had  a  family  I  should  think 
so." 

"  It's  on  account  of  Harold,"  said  Robert. 
"  The  doctor  says  he  must  go  right  away. 

"Oh!  is  your  father  going  to  Pleasant  Hill? 
I  have  a  friend  in  that  neighborhood.  I  go 
there  often." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  29 

"  Then  you  can  come  and  see  us  there.  Will 
you?  I  hope  you  will,"  said  Roland. 

"  Perhaps.  When  I  visit  my  friend  I  try  to  do 
as  she  thinks  best." 

"  Mama  says  that's  what  visitors  ought  to  do. 
It  wouldn't  be  polite  to  do  what  wouldn't  be 
pleasant  to  people  who  are  kind  enough  to  let 
you  visit  them,"  said  Robert. 

"And  politeness,  is  only  kindness,  you  know 
that,  I  suppose?" 

"  O  yes.  You  can't  help  being  polite  to  a  per 
son  when  you  feel  kind  to  that  person,"  said 
Roland. 

"  Pleasant  Hill  will  be  a  good  place  for  Har 
old.  There  are  pine  woods,  not  so  many  as  in  the 
Adirondacks,  quite  a  piece  of  them,  though.  He 
might  have  a  hammock  and  keep  out  all  the  fair 
weather,  and  so  pick  up  strength  and  healing 
from  the  balsam  in  the  air." 

But,  come,  the  school  bell  has  been  ringing 
some  time.  I  must  go  to  the  lumber  yard  to  or 
der  more  stock;  so  good  by,  good  by;  and  good 
luck  to  you." 

"  Good  by ! "  shouted  Robert  bounding  to 
wards  the  door. 

"  Manners,  good  manners,  Bert,"  said  Roland, 
taking  the  hand  extended  by  Mr.  Goodwin  and 
shaking  it  heartily. 

"  Oh,  there !  it's  just  like  me,"  said  Robert,  re- 


30  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

turning  and  doing  as  Koland  had  done.  "  And 
I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  good  wishes, — is  that 
right,  Roll?  "  he  added  gaily. 

Roland  nodded  and  smiled. 

"  A  form,  only  a  form,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin ; 
"  but,  boys,  it  has  a  deep  meaning, — and  I  like 
it.  If  young  people  only  knew  how  much  they 
gain  by  attending  to  these  and  other  little  acts 
of  kindness  I  think  they  would  be  less  likely  to 
omit  them.  And,  if  only  doing  them  out  of  po 
liteness,  when  doing  them  has  become  a  habit, 
they  will  be  less  likely  to  omit  them ;  there  will 
be  moments,  times  of  importance,  when  they  will 
find,  in  reality,  that  they  are  something  more 
than  mere  form." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  31 


CHAPTER  III. 

MISTAKES  AND  MISHAPS. 

"LOTTIE,"  said  Mrs.  Marston  going  into  the 
kitchen  after  breakfast,  "  Harold  is  so  poorly  he 
will  keep  in  bed  to-day ;  and  we  must  be  as  quiet 
as  possible,  that  he  may  get  some  sleep.  He 
had  none  last  night." 

"  Oh,  t'e  tear  boy !  I  so  so'hy !  I  make  t'ings 
very  still,"  she  returned. 

"  Susan  thinks  she  can  do  nothing  but  try 
to  make  Maud  contented  in  the  nursery.  I  de 
pend  upon  you  to  help  me  get  things  in  readiness 
for  to-morrow,  early;  and — Dear  me!  what's 
that?" 

There  was  a  loud  bang  at  the  kitchen  door, 
and  children's  voices  and  a  puppy's  bark  made 
a  great  uproar. 

"  O  t'e  doggie !  t'e  wee  doggie ! "  exclaimed 
Lottie. 

Tad  and  Polly  and  Annie  Wilson  as  they  came 
scuffling  in  were  shouting  and  urging  the  puppy 
to  respond  to  his  name. 


32  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Thaddeus,"  said  Mrs.  Marston,  "  I  can't  have 
this.  Polly,  you  know  better  than  to  let  him 
bring  the  dog  in  here." 

"  Lottie  said  we  might.  He  is  to  be  here  while 
we  go  to  school." 

"  I  can't  allow  it,  take  him  to  the  shed  and 
tie  him  there  securely.  And  then  make  your 
selves  ready  for  school." 

"  Oh,  please,  please,  mama ! "  whined  Tad. 

She  shook  her  head  resolutely — they  knew  she 
must  be  obeyed. 

"  Here,  Duncan !  Dun !  Dunnie !  "  cried  Tad 
sharply. 

"  O  poor,  poor  Dunnie,"  said  Polly — Annie 
Nelson  gave  a  little  scream,  as  in  terror. 

Lottie,  in  her  preparations  for  the  moving  had 
taken  down  the  kitchen  clock  (it  was  a  looking- 
glass  clock)  to  the  floor.  The  dog  seeing  his  re 
flection  therein  had  gone  towards  it.  A  crash 
and  a  loud  yelp  and  the  infuriated  animal  rushed 
out  of  the  room  and  out  of  doors;  the  children 
after  him,  pell-mell,  screaming  his  name  and 
their  sympathy. 

"  How  could  you  give  them  leave  to  keep  him 
in  the  kitchen  while  they  are  at  school,  Lottie?  " 
said  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  No,  no,  ma'am,"  sobbed  Lottie,  gazing  as  if 
terror-striken  at  the  demolished  glass.  "  Only 
whiles  they  go  to  school.  Not  so  ve'hy  great 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  33 

time,  I  fought;  an'  t'n  I  take  him  to  t'e  shed, 
you  see." 

"  That  was  deception,"  said  Mrs.  Marston, 
sternly.  "  They  understood  you  that  he  could 
stay  here  till  they  returned  from  school." 

"  T'ey  said  eet  was  so  lonesome  for  t'e  poor 
creetur,  an'  he  was  most  lost;  an'  Taddie  feel 
so  bad." 

"  Taddie  did  wrong  to  ask  you,  Lottie.  But 
you  have  done  much  worse  to  deceive." 

Lottie's  face  was  very  red.  She  had  begun  to 
pick  the  broken  glass  from  the  floor.  She 
stopped,  without  rising,  and  looked  very  soberly 
at  Mrs.  Marston. 

"You  t'ink  I  lie,  I  feel  not  so.  An'  I  feel 
veh'ly  bad  for  any  one  say  I  lie,"  she  said. 

"  It  meant  the  same  as  a  lie.  And  I  am  very, 
very  sorry.  I  thought  I  could  believe  you,"  re 
turned  Mrs.  Marston,  "  thought  you  were  truth 
ful  in  every  way.  Oh,  dear!  must  I  have  this 
added  to  my  other  troubles?"  Distressed  and 
perplexed,  she  choked  down  her  feelings  with 
one  sob  and  went  on  calmly.  "  Pack  the  baking 
dishes  and  pans  in  a  barrel,  from  the  cellar,  this 
forenoon.  I  will  finish  packing  what  can  be 
spared  from  the  dining-room." 

Half  an  hour  later  Lottie  came  to  that  room, 
while  her  mistress  was  employed  there.  "  If 
you  please,"  said  the  repentant  girl  in  a  tremu- 


34  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

lous  voice,  her  swollen  eyelids  and  crimson  face 
giving  evidence  of  the  struggle  she  had  passed 
through.  "  I  did  not  t'ink  to  lie,  not  to  be  so 
bahd  as  t'at,  no,  never!  T'e  chil'en  is  dear 
chil'en,  but  I  will  go  ahway  because  you  t'ink  I 
make  t'em  to  lie,"  and  two  big  tears  rolled  down 
her  cheeks. 

"  I  didn't  say  you  would  make  them  lie." 

"  No,  ma'am ;  but  I  t'ink  you  fought  so.'" 

"  Children  learn  wrong  sayings  and  wrong  do 
ings  very  easily,  very  quickly,"  returned  Mrs. 
Marston. 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  I  know  t'ay  does.  But  dat 
one  time  I  didn't  t'ink  'bout  it.  I  don't  know, 
I'll  try  to  learn  to  t'ink  not  to." 

"  Well,  Lottie ;  let  it  be  only  this  one  time. 
Remember  to  say  exactly  just  what  you  mean, 
what  you  know  is  right,  and  we'll  say  no  more 
about  this.  I  will  try  to  think  as  well  of  you  as 
before.  I  haven't  time  to  talk  any  more  now. 
Gro  about  your  work.  We've  a  great  deal  to  do 
to-day ; "  as  she  spoke  she  was  trying  to  fasten  a 
basket  cover. 

Lottie  saw  the  difficulty  and  stopped  an  in 
stant  to  assist  her.  "  You  know  how,  just  how, 
to  fix  it ;  and  how  strong  you  are ! "  she  said 
pleasantly.  "  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Lottie." 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  like  to  please  you.     I  am 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  35 

glad,"  and  smiling  through  her  tears  went  to  the 
kitchen  only  to  return  the  next  minute. 

She  had  answered  the  door-bell  and  came  to 
announce  a  gentleman  in  the  parlor,  Mr.  Hay- 
ward,  the  minister.  He  was  a  good  old  man,  ven 
erable  in  appearance  and  saint-like  in  character. 
The  Marston  family  were  warmly  attached  to 
him  and  he  also  to  them. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  very  busy,"  he  said,  com 
ing  forward  as  she  entered ;  with  a  hearty  grasp 
of  her  hand,  he  went  on,  "  I  couldn't  refrain 
from  coming  in  on  my  way  to  the  post-office." 

"  Oh !  indeed,  you  are  always  welcome,"  she 
returned.  "  Never  more  so  than  now,  when  I 
have  so  much  to  discourage  me." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear ;  don't  say  that,  with  so 
much  to  make  your  life  beautiful,"  he  said,  tak 
ing  the  comfortable  arm-chair  to  which  she 
pointed ;  with  a  murmured  "  Thank  you,"  he 
placed  his  feet  on  a  hassock  which  she  brought 
forward,  and  then  went  on  to  say  that  ever 
since  he  had  heard  of  their  leaving  Hillsford  he 
had  been  wanting  to  congratulate  them  on  se 
curing  Pleasant  Hill;  for  it  was  just  the  place 
for  Harold,  he  would  no  doubt  be  greatly  bene- 
fitted  by  its  healthful,  invigorating  atmosphere. 

She  gave  him  a  detailed  account  of  Harold's 
condition,  but  could  not  consent  to  "  the  little 
careless  chat "  with  him,  which  he  desired.  "  He 


36  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

is  very  feeble  to-day,"  she  said;  and  her  great 
anxiety  was  so  apparent,  he  rebuked  her,  assured 
her  she  still  had  large  reason  for  hope  and 
courage.  "  My  dear  child,"  he  continued,  laying 
his  hand  tenderly  upon  her  shoulder,  "  you  must 
not  let  the  fogs  rising  from  your  tiresome  daily 
duties  obscure  your  sunlight,  you  understand?  " 

He  had  scarcely  gone  when  Mrs.  Nelson 
tapped  on  the  window  to  signify  her  wish  to  be 
admitted. 

Mrs.  Marston  raised  the  window,  but  said 
nothing.  "  Don't  think  I  am  intrusive,"  said 
Mrs.  Nelson.  "  I  want  to  help  you.  You  looked 
so  completely  tired  out  when  I  was  in  last  that 
every  time  I  sit  down  to  my  embroidery  I  see 
your  face  right  before  me,  I  don't  feel  right  not 
to  do  something  for  you  " 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  was  replied,  "  but  I  can 
get  along  very  well.  If  I  do  the  packing  I  shall 
know  where  to  find  things  afterwards." 

"  Oh !  I'll  just  dust  your  bric-a-brac.  You  can 
trust  me.  I'm  a  good  packer." 

Mrs.  Marston  smiled — continued  Ousting  a 
picture. 

"  Self-praise,  you  think,  I  suppose.  But  I 
sent  a  large  box  of  Christmas  presents  to  cousin 
Maria  last  winter,  fragile  things,  most  of  them, 
but  not  even  a  nick  on  one  of  them.  You  just 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  37 

get  me  some  cotton  batting,  or  your  piece-bag, 
and  you'll  see  what  I  can  do." 

Poor  Mrs.  Marston,  though  she  trembled  for 
the  choice  bits  of  porcelain  and  rare  pottery  that 
embellished  her  mantel  and  cabinet,  saw  no  help 
for  it ;  Mrs.  Nelson  must  be  gratified.  She  must 
make  the  best  of  her  officiousness,  and  even  be 
grateful  for  it,  disagreeable  as  she  felt  per 
suaded,  if  not  disastrous,  though  it  might  prove. 
She  brought  the  piece-bag  with  proper  docility, 
and  a  huge  roll  of  batting ;  and  Mrs.  Nelson  was 
happy,  chatting  and  rolling  and  swathing  one 
dainty  thing  after  another,  for  Mrs.  Marston  to 
dispose  of  in  box  or  basket. 

Mr.  Hayward,  coming  from  grandmother  Mar- 
ston's  room,  seeing  the  two  women  thus  em 
ployed  and  knowing  Mrs.  Nelson's  predilections 
said  pleasantly.  "  So  you  are  helping  Mrs.  Mar 
ston  to  shut  up  the  story  of  her  days  here,  as 
Raleigh  says,  '  A  kind  office,  a  most  benevolent, 
neighborly  turn.' "  ' 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  returned,  "  I  feel  '  my  heart 
new  opened,'  as  Shakespeare  says,  now  that  I 
am  to  lose  this  good  neighbor." 

"  Oh !  it's  not  a  loss,  transference  of  location 
need  not  be  transference  of  affection,  you  know. 
Out  of  sight  need  not  be  out  of  mind." 

" '  A  mind  not  to  be  changed  by  place  or  time ' 
we  should  have,  of  course.  But  human  nature 


38  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

is  human  nature  everywhere,  you  will  allow 
that,  I  presume,  and — ' 

Mrs.  Nelson  could  not  finish  her  sentence. 
The  beautiful  Majolica  vase  that  she  was  wrap 
ping  slipped  from  her  fingers  to  the  edge  of  the 
marble  slab  on  which  it  had  rested,  and  fell  to 
the  floor  in  fragments. 

For  an  instant  Mrs.  Marston  felt  that  she  had 
reached  the  lowest  depths  of  despair  in  a  like 
shattered  condition.  The  crash  of  that  fall  went 
through  her  sensibilities  like  a  knell,  the  vase 
was  the  gift  of  a  very  dear  friend  long  dead. 
She  turned  pale,  but  not  a  word  escaped  her 
lips.  Mrs.  Nelson,  on  the  contrary,  flushed  like 
a  peony  and  was  profuse  in  lamentations  and 
regrets.  Seeing  how  quietly  Mrs.  Marston  went 
on  putting  her  small  bronze  Mercury  into  its 
case,  she  couldn't  refrain  from  repeating,  with 
a  dramatic  air — 

'  And  mistress  of  herself  though  china  fall.' " 
Mr.  Hayward  had  cast  a  sympathetic  glance  to 
ward  Mrs.  Marston.  He  suddenly  changed  his 
expression;  this  ebullition  was  too  much  for 
his  gravity;  his  keen  blue  eyes  twinkled,  the 
muscles  of  his  mouth  twitched,  to  which  Mrs. 
Marston  responded,  in  spite  of  grief,  with  a  very 
pleasant  smile.  Then  with  a  kind  message  to 
Harold,  and  expressing  the  hope  that  there 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  39 

should  be  no  farther  disaster  in  the  moving  he 
bade  them  a  courteous  good  day. 

Polly,  coming  from  school  met  him  in  the 
doorway.  She  gave  him  a  rapturous  kiss  and  an 
urgent  invitation  to  Pleasant  Hill.  "  And  don't 
forget  that  I  like  chocolate  caramels."  Tad, 
just  behind  her,  doffed  his  tam-o-shanter  and 
echoed  her  words.  Then  both  children  rushed 
into  the  midst  of  the  packing. 

Mrs.  Nelson,  surrounded  by  the  contents  of 
the  piece-bag  received  Polly's  first  attention. 
"Can't  you  help?"  she  said.  "Get  me  the 
softest  pieces." 

"  Yes1,  but  this  is  just  what  I  want.  See,  Tad- 
die  ! "  and  she  held  up  a  quantity  of  gray  linen. 
"  For  the  spruce  pillow,  you  know.  And,  Mrs. 
Nelson,  will  you  just  tell  me,  please,  what  the 
words  are  to  go  on  it" 

"  Spruce  pillow?" 

"  Why — yes.    What  you  made  for  the  Fair." 

"  Oh !  Well,  are  you  sure  your  mother  will 
let  you  have  the  linen?" 

Mrs.  Marston  had  left  the  room. 

"  'Course  she  will,"  said  Tad.  "  It's  no  good ; 
couldn't  be  made  into  a  dress.  It's  to  be  a 
s'prise,  too." 

"  And  it's  just  the  size,"  said  Polly,  folding  it. 
"  I'm  going  to  make  the  words  right  away,  so 
it  will  be  all  ready  to  put  the  spruce  in  for  Oldie 


40  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

the  very  minute  I  get  up  to  the  farm.  The  smell 
of  it  is  going  to  help  cure  him,  you  know,  Mrs. 
Nelson.  Tad,  you  write  down  the  words." 

Tad  brought  forth  from  his  pocket  a  number 
of  small  articles  from  which  he  drew  with  great 
pride  a  bit  of  lead  pencil  and  a  soiled  steamer 
ticket,  and  with  much  labor  proceeded  to  write 
as  Mrs.  Nelson  dictated.  It  was  a  tedious  task, 
and  only  half  accomplished  when  Lottie  called 
him  to  give  Duncan  something  to  still  his  bark 
ing  and  whining,  and  then  said  lunch  was  ready. 
Mrs.  Nelson  said  she  would  only  stop  for  a  cup 
of  coffee,  she  must  go  and  attend  to  her  own 
children's  lunch.  Mrs.  Marston  did  not  urge  her 
to  stay,  and  just  at  that  moment  giving  Tom 
directions  about  his  room,  forgot  to  thank  her 
for  her  services. 

Polly  took  up  the  piece  of  linen  on  which  Tad 
had  drawn  a  few  letters,  crammed  it  into  her 
pocket,  and  fled  to  the  dining-room.  Edith 
came  in;  and  then  there  was  so  much  to  talk 
about  between  Tom,  his  mother  and  Edith, 
Polly  and  Tad  were  unusually  silent  all  lunch 
time.  After  that  Polly  told  Tad  they  could 
make  the  letters  on  the  linen  in  the  shed  and 
keep  Dunnie  company,  too.  "  He's  lonesome, 
that's  what  makes  him  whine,"  he  said.  "  You 
just  go  and  write  the  rest  of  it  and  I'll  get  needle 
and  thread  to  sew  it." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  41 

Tad,  who  was  in  a  very  obedient  mood,  espe 
cially  as  this  would  give  him  the  pleasure  of 
Dunnie's  society,  went  to  the  shed  with  alacrity; 
Polly,  meanwhile  rummaging  her  mother's  and 
Edith's  workbaskets  for  what  she  considered 
suitable  thread.  Finally,  in  a  box  of  embroidery 
she  discovered  some  gold-colored  floss  which  she 
appropriated  gleefully,  and,  as  time  now  was 
short  before  the  bell  would  ring  for  afternoon 
school,  she  ran  to  the  shed,  impatient  to  begin 
the  work.  Tad  had  played  with  Duncan  instead 
of  finishing  the  words,  and  the  steamer  ticket, 
on  which,  for  a  support,  he  had  folded  the  linen, 
had  fallen  out,  was  trampled  under  foot  and 
now  too  much  soiled  for  any  use  whatever.  The 
linen,  wrinkled  by  the  pressure  it  had  had  in 
Polly's  pocket,  knew  much  rougher  treatment 
in  Tad's  frolic  with  the  puppy ;  and,  still  grasped 
in  Tad's  hand,  was  a  sorry-looking  object. 
Polly,  much  displeased,  snatched  it  and  with 
no  very  gentle  touch,  tried  to  smoothe  out  the 
creases.  "  Tad  Marston,"  she  said,  "  you  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  It's  your  surprise  as 
much  as  mine,  and  it  ought  to  look  nice  and 
handsome." 

"  See,  here,  Polly,  I  didn't  think ;  and  I  guess 
it'll  come  all  smooth  when  the  spruce  is  squeezed 
in  to  make  it  full." 

"  Well,  you  let  Dun  alone  now,  and  help  me. 


42  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Perhaps  it  won't  look  quite  so  bad  when  it  is  all 
done." 

"  My  pencil  wouldn't  write  well,  and  I  just 
wanted  to  tell  you  so.  Oh!  goody!  this'll  do 
first-rate,"  and  Tad  picked  up  from  the  shed 
floor  a  slender  piece  of  charcoal.  Then  Polly 
spied  a  barrel  cover  near,  that  Tad  said  was 
"  heaps  better  "  than  that  old  steamer  card. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  writing  was  accom 
plished.  Polly,  intently  watching  Tad's  grimy 
fingers  lest  they  should  soil  the  linen,  had  not 
given  attention  to  the  letters.  To  her  dismay, 
she  saw,  as  she  stretched  the  linen  to  its  original 
smoothness  several  distressing  blemishes. 

In  the  first  place  though  Tad's  writing  was 
generally  neater  than  Polly's  (and  that  was  why 
he  took  that  part  of  the  work)  he  had  not  yet 
learned  to  make  capitals ;  so  he  had  begun  every 
word  with  an  immense  letter.  And,  spelling  not 
being  his  forte,  while  Polly  excelled  in  that 
branch  of  education,  she  was  ready  to  cry  at  the 
superfluous  letters  which  crowded  the  small 
space  he  had  given  the  words. 

"Oh,  Taddie!"  she  exclaimed,"  you  never 
should  make  a  capital  G  like  that.  And  that 
Give,  with  two  gs  to  begin  with,  is  horrid.  And 
there's  only  one  f  in  of  and  one  1  in  balm.  What 
did  you  write  spruce  for?  and  spruce  has  only 
one  u — and  it  ought  to  be  fir," 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  43 

"Why!  we  are  going  to  make  it  of  spruce, 
Pollywog.  So  it  ought  to  say  spruce.  And  it 
looks  nice  with  two  u's.  Give  me  of  thy  balm, 

0  spruce.    That's  all  right." 

"  O  Tad !  it  isn't  right,  it  isn't.    But  I  suppose 

1  must  sew  it,  because  it  can't  be  rubbed  out." 
With  a  doleful  sigh  she  seated  herself  on  a 

woodpile,  and  threaded  her  needle.  Unused  to 
handling  floss,  it  was  sometime  before  the  first 
stitch  was  in  place. 

Tad,  supposing  she  had  no  farther  need  of  his 
services,  romped  merrily  with  the  puppy.  Polly 
worked  on  patiently  a  while.  But,  at  last,  she 
could  endure  the  noise  and  distraction  no  lon 
ger. 

"  Do  keep  still,  Taddie,"  she  said,  fretfully ; 
you  and  Dun  joggle  me  so  I've  made  that  stitch 
ever  so  much  too  large." 

"  Chil'en "  called  Lottie  from  the  kitchen 
window,  "  you'  mama  say  t'  school-bell  mos'  done 
ringing." 

"  Guess  we  might  as  well  hide  it  in  here,"  said 
Taddie,  opening  a  drawer  in  an  old  desk  used  for 
keeping  gardening  tools  and  seeds. 

Polly  folded  up  the  linen,  scowling  as  she  did 
so,  for  she  was  disappointed  by  its  careless  ap 
pearance.  "  I  don't  believe  it  will  look  a  bit 
pretty  with  all  those  mistakes,  Tad,"  she  said 
crossly. 


44  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  I'm  sure  it  looks  fine,  begins  to,  a'ready,"  he 
said.  "  Give  me  of  thy  balm,  O  spruce  tree " 
in  his  most  impressive  style. 

"  But,  I  tell  you  what,  Polly,  it  ought  to  say 
him,  not  me,  to  be  just  right,  don't  you  think? 
Because  it  is  what  we  want  for  him,  for  Oldie, 
you  know." 

Polly's  hair  was  tumbled ;  she  said  she  must  fix 
it,  and  went  to  her  room.  She  hadn't  forgotten 
Harold's  words  and  her  father's  advice  about 
her  personal  appearance,  and  she  spent  nearly 
a  half  hour  every  morning  in  arranging  her  hair 
for  the  day,  but  this  was  always  accomplished 
before  breakfast;  to-day's  experience  made 
necessary  an  extra  attention. 

Tad  waited  for  her,  as  usual;  then  they  trot 
ted  off  together. 

Mrs.  Marston  with  all  her  perplexing  and 
pressing  duties  on  this  day,  kept  Harold  upper 
most  in  mind  and  went  occasionally  to  his  room 
to  enquire  how  he  was  and  to  look  after  his  com 
fort.  During  the  forenoon  he  had  refreshing 
sleep;  after  that  she  was  glad  to  find  he  was 
much  better  than  in  the  morning. 

Dr.  Houghton  came  in,  approved  his  keeping 
in  bed  and  advised  his  removal  to  Pleasant  Hill 
the  following  day  if  the  weather  were  fair.  He 
talked  some  time  about  the  advantages  of  a 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  45 

quiet,  restful  life  there,  and  left  Mrs.  Marston 
much  encouraged  in  regard  to  Harold's  condi 
tion,  and  what  might  be  expected  from  the 
change  to  the  clear,  dry  air  of  Pippoton. 

When  Mr.  Marston  came  to  dinner  he  was 
much  pleased  to  see  his  wife  in  better  spirits 
than  for  a  week  past,  "  even  the  tones  of  her 
voice  more  cheerful  and  her  movements  more 
buoyant,"  he  remarked  to  grandmother,  and  that 
it  "  did  him  good  to  see  this  ;  "  "  and,  you,  your 
self,  mother,"  he  went  on  to  say,  "seem  getting 
younger,  every  day.K 

"There's  nothing  like  hope,  Philip;"  she  re 
marked,  "  nothing  like  hope  to  cheer  and  to  en 
courage." 

The  baby  was,  apparently,  on  her  best  be 
havior;  owing,  no  doubt,  to  the  license  which 
Susan  had  taken  from  Mrs.  Marston's  order  to 
keep  her  pleasant  and  quiet — which  she  inter 
preted  as  full  indulgence  of  all  her  whims.  So 
Maud  had  a  delightful  time  in  utilizing  all  the 
resources  of  the  nursery  by  way  of  disorder  and 
confusion;  now,  brimming  over  with  self-satis 
faction,  the  merry  little  thing  was  ready  to 
greet  her  father  in  the  sweetest  of  moods. 

Seeing  Harold  still  in  bed,  Mr.  Marston  was 
at  first  disposed  to  find  some  fault  with  his  wife, 
fearing  that  in  the  stress  of  household  cares  she 


46  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

had  neglected  him.  But  she  gave  him  the  com 
mendation  that  Dr.  Houghton  had  granted  her 
for  the  judicious  restraint  she  had  exercised  in 
'her  management  of  the  invalid,  and  Harold, 
himself,  soon  assured  him  of  his  mother's  con 
tinual  and  watchful  care,  and  convinced  him  of 
the  wisdom  of  remaining  there  while  so  much 
was  going  on;  and,  thus  reserving  strength,  on 
arriving  at  the  new  home  he  should  be  able  and 
rejoiced  to  take  his  accustomed  place  with  the 
rest  of  the  family. 

Many  plans  were  to  be  unfolded,  and  orders 
given  that  evening,  and  Edith  and  Tom  were 
kept  as  busy  as  their  parents  in  getting  matters 
in  readiness.  Roland  and  Robert  were  also 
much  interested  and  took  a  good  share  in  the 
proceedings.  Finally,  Polly  and  Taddie  were 
pressed  into  the  service  and  worked  bravely  as 
long  as  daylight  lasted,  notwithstanding  Polly's 
frequent  protests  that  she  had  something  "  very 
important"  to  do.  Her  thoughts,  divided  be 
tween  her  embroidery  in  the  old  desk  drawer  in 
the  shed  and  the  carrying  back  and  forth,  and 
up  and  down  stairs,  of  sundry  and  numerous 
goods.  But  the  usual  routine  of  family  manage 
ment  had  been  set  aside  for  the  occasion,  and 
Polly's  blunders  passed  unreproved,  while  Tad- 
die's  good  humor  was  so  contagious  that  even 
his  bumps  and  falls  led  to  sallies  of  wit  from 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  47 

Roland,  always  considered,  from  his  sedateness 
and  sobriety,  the  deacon  of  the  household,  and 
Tom  talked  of  getting  up  a  volume  of  puns  as 
the  outcome  of  the  moving. 


48  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PLEASANT    HILL. 

PLEASANT  HILL  is  a  portion  of  Pippoton  a 
pretty  village  near  Hillsford.  The  previous 
owner  of  the  farm  purchased  by  Mr.  Mars  ton, 
was  a  retired  sea  captain.  To  gratify  his 
daughter,  some  ten  years  previous,  he  had  de 
molished  part  of  the  original  old-fashioned  farm 
house,  and  to  the  remainder  had  added  more 
modern  arrangements,  also  a  balcony  passing 
around  the  second  story.  For  three  years,  with 
his  wife  and  daughter,  he  lived  there  quietly 
and  happily.  His  wife  died  suddenly  about  that 
time.  Soon  after  his  son  graduated  from  a 
scientific  school.  He  became  one  of  the  family 
as  in  his  early  boyhood,  and  was  the  pride  of 
his  father,  who  indulged  him  in  everything  that 
could  assist  him  in  perfecting  his  knowledge  of 
science,  especially  in  chemical  matters. 

The  son  was  ambitious  to  become  an  inventor, 
and  his  father  took  much  pleasure  in  furthering 
his  efforts  along  that  line.  He  was  allowed  free 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  49 

use  of  the  balcony  for  his  experiments,  and  for 
two  years  he  labored  indefatigably  on  various 
devices.  The  villagers  looked  with  awe  upon  the 
great  loads  of  metals  and  curious  packages  of 
what  they  considered  poisons  brought  from  a 
distance  to  Pleasant  Hill  for  young  "  Doctor 
Hamilton."  At  last  it  was  currently  reported 
that  he  had  invented  a  wonderful  machine,  a 
wheel  which  was  to  revolutionize  all  known 
methods  of  labor. 

He  had  applied  for  a  patent,  it  was  said ;  and 
the  discovery,  when  patented,  would  bring  him 
great  wealth.  It  was  to  be  exhibited  in  the  vil 
lage  Hall  as  soon  as  it  was  patented,  and  Pip- 
ponton  people  were  on  the  qui  vive  to  attend 
that  exhibition.  One  night  there  came  a  tre 
mendous  boom,  like  a  terrible  peal  of  thunder, 
and  a  flash  like  the  sharpest  lightning,  that  il 
luminated  all  Pleasant  Hill  as  if  with  a  great 
conflagration.  Yet  no  fire  resulted — only  great 
destruction  of  the  newer  part  of  the  farm-house. 
And  young  Dr.  Hamilton  had  never  been  seen 
since.  His  father,  Squire  Hamilton,  as  he  was 
called,  was  reticent  of  the  matter.  But  from 
that  night  his  disposition  and  whole  nature  were 
changed;  he  was  a  gloomy,  moody  man,  caring 
for  no  society,  or  intercourse  with  his  neighbors. 
Dr.  Houghton  was  his  only  confidant,  apparently 
his  only  friend;  and  when,  soon  after  the  catas- 


5o  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

trophe,  he  went  to  California,  he  left  the  farm  in 
his  hands,  to  be  let,  or  to  be  sold,  if  possible.  Im 
mediately  after  the  explosion  he  had  closed  the 
balcony.  His  daughter  soon  followed  him  to 
California.  But  the  farm  laborers  whom  the 
Squire  retained  in  his  service,  and  Darley,  a  ca 
pable  and  faithful  agent,  sometimes  told  strange 
stories  of  rattling  wires  and  flashing  lights  in 
the  closed  balcony.  These,  together  with  the 
disappearance  of  Dr.  Hamilton,  prejudiced  the 
villagers  against  the  place,  and  the  house  re 
mained  unoccupied  till  Mr.  Marston  bought  it. 

It  was  not  a  large  farm:  a  few  acres  of 
meadow  land,  about  the  same  of  orchard  and 
tillage,  half  as  much  in  a  grove  of  pines  and 
spruces,  a  little  garden  of  vines  and  flowers,  of 
kitchen  herbs  and  vegetables,  and  a  handsome 
terraced  lawn  in  front  of  the  house,  comprised 
its  extent.  But  it  had  been  well-kept,  and  was 
a  comfortable  home  for  persons  of  quiet  tastes. 

Pleasant  Hill  is  a  gentle  declivity,  command 
ing  a  view  of  Pippoton  and  the  river  bounding 
its  northern  limits.  Towards  the  south  and  east 
of  the  village  lies  Hillsford,  its  highest  build 
ings  and  spires  easily  distinguished.  Beyond 
these  buildings  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the 
river's  mouth,  and  of  the  ocean  at  the  horizon, 
sparkling  in  sunshine,  silvery  in  moonlight,  can 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  51 

be  obtained.  When  the  atmosphere  is  especially 
favorable,  the  white  sails  of  vessels  coming  in 
or  going  out  of  the  harbor  can  be  seen,  with  now 
and  then  a  small  steamer  ploughing  its  way 
up  or  down  the  river.  And,  sometimes1,  of  a  sum 
mer  afternoon  the  strange,  weird  sea-turn,  lift 
ing  its  veil  of  mist  over  the  entrance  of  the 
harbor,  comes  rolling  in,  golden  or  rosy  in  the 
declining  sun,  enveloping  the  river  and  the  city 
as  if  by  enchantment  till  it  seems  a  scene  in 
fairy  land,  or  the  illusive  glory  of  a  dream. 

The  house  looked  roomy  enough  to  accommo 
date  a  family  even  larger  than  the  Marstons. 
Dormer  windows  from  its  roof  overlooked  the 
second  story.  These  windows  lighted  the  garret, 
a  real  garret,  with  bare  timbers  and  cross-beams 
for  swings  and  leaps  and  all  manner  of  childish 
exploits,  as  Mrs.  Marston  saw,  with  a  spasm  of 
dread,  when  she  went  over  the  place  with  her 
husband.  The  rest  of  the  house,  with  its  airy 
chambers,  wide  halls,  and  sunny  library  and 
parlor,  was  entirely  to  her  mind;  while  the  out 
buildings,  barn,  carriage-house,  and  hennery 
were  the  admiration  of  her  husband  and  Harold. 
And  Harold,  feeble  as  he  was,  had  an  eye  to  the 
neighborhood.  The  little  lake,  or  pond,  with  its 
leaning  willows,  and  rustic  seat  in  their  shade, 
a  few  rods  down  the  road,  looked  inviting;  he 
meant  to  spend  a  good  many  hours  there  when 


52  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

he  was  a  little  better.  The  old  farm-house  near 
by,  its  long,  sloping  roof  spangled  with  orange 
and  gray  mosses;  its  dilapidated  summer-house, 
also  covered  with  lichens ;  its  well  with  swinging 
bucket,  and  its  beehives  under  the  gnarled  lime- 
trees,  and  the  soldierly  old  Lombardy  poplars, 
attracted  his  attention  and  aroused  much  inter 
est.  Those  who  lived  there  must  have  a  history, 
he  thought,  and  he  should  enjoy  their  acquaint 
ance.  He  saw,  too,  with  delight,  farther  down 
near  the  meadows,  white  billows  of  bloom,  sway 
ing  in  the  breeze ;  and,  farther  yet,  a  pink  flush, 
as  of  an  imprisoned  sunset  among  the  shrubs  of 
the  swamp,  the  shad-bush  and  the  swamp-pink, 
surely!  And,  oh!  what  other  riches  of  wild 
growth,  what  other  beauties,  should  he  discover, 
when  he  was  able  to  ramble  down  the  lanes  and 
over  the  fields? 

He  mused  of  all  these  things  as  he  lay  resting 
the  day  before  the  moving ;  greedily  inhaling  the 
fragrance  of  the  lily  of  the  valley  given  him  by 
Mrs.  Dinsmore.  "Wild,  uncultivated,  unciv 
ilized,  as  they  once  were,  what  may  I  not  do; 
what  may  I  not  develop  of  the  wild  plants  in  this 
region?"  he  said  to  himself.  "What  delightful 
occupation  it  will  be  for  me?" 

Moving  day  broke  bright  and  clear.  Most  of 
the  Marston  family  were  astir  by  sunrise  and 
alert  for  action,  and  the  moving  was  accom- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  53 

plished  successfully.  Harold  had  had  a  comfort 
able  night  and  felt  better  than  for  some  days; 
he  enjoyed  the  ride,  pointing  out  to  his  grand 
mother  the  most  interesting  objects  along  the 
road  and  when  they  reached  the  farm  declared 
that  he  wasn't  a  bit  tired. 

Nevertheless  Darley  and  Brown  insisted  that 
he  should  lie  down.  Darley  had  set  an  old 
lounge  near  a  window  in  the  room  he  was  to 
occupy,  and  there  he  reclined  in  placid  content, 
gazing  at  the  landscape  and  ruminating  on  pros 
pective  possibilities  most  of  the  day. 

Grandmother  Marston  holding  Maud  by  the 
hand,  trotted  from  room  to  room  till  she  felt  ac 
quainted  with  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  house,  and 
then  Lottie  established  her  at  Harold's  side.  He 
assured  her  that  he  had  no  pain,  and  his  head 
was  all  right.  But  when  he  coughed  she  listened 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  she  could  not  rid  her 
self  of  the  dismal  forebodings  that  had  given  her 
great  disquiet  during  the  past  month. 

Polly  and  Tad  were  in  high  spirits.  Their 
strange  questions  and  comical  remarks,  and 
their  manoeuvres  with  Duncan,  kept  Brown  in  a 
delightfully  confused  condition  of  annoyance  and 
amusement  all  the  way ;  he  was  thankful  to  land 
them  all  there  without  accident  to  life  and  limb. 
The  instant  their  feet  touched  ground  they  flew, 
rather  than  walked,  from  hall  to  garret,  and 


54  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

thence  to  the  cellar,  and  over  the  out-buildings, 
with  innumerable  "  Ohs !  "  and  "  Ahs ! "  It  was 
fortunate  that  wagons  were  so  heavily  laden 
that  they  had  accomplished  their  survey  and 
scrutiny,  and  were  ready  to  settle  themselves 
to  some  little  composure  in  the  care  of  Maud,  for 
Lottie  then  had  her  hands  and  head  full  of  what 
she  considered  more  important  work. 

By  this  time  Polly  bethought  herself  of  the 
spruce  pillow.  As  she  saw  the  furniture  wagons 
coming  up  the  driveway,  she  and  Maud  and  Tad 
(he  with  the  puppy  in  his  arms)  standing  at 
the  barn-door,  where  they  had  finished  their  in 
vestigations,  gave  an  uproarious  shout.  "  Got 
the  desk?"  she  continued.  "Got  the  shed- 
desk?  "  running  towards  the  wagoner. 

"  Look  out  there ! "  cried  Robert  from  his 
perch  on  the  top  of  a  bureau  (he  and  Roland 
had  been  glad  to  avail  themselves  of  a  ride  be 
fore  they  had  walked  half  the  distance)  "  Polly- 
wog!  what  are  you  about,  right  under  the  hor 
ses'  feet?" 

Polly  started  nervously  at  the  unexpected 
voice  and  at  the  sudden  sense  of  her  danger,  and 
fell  directly  before  a  wheel  of  the  wagon. 

There  was  a  general  scream  and  a  rush  from 
both  wagoners,  Roland  on  the  second  wagon; 
and  Bert  and  Tad.  Among  them  all  she  was 
rescued  with  only  the  loss  of  half  her  dress-skirt. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  55 

Trembling  and  confused,  as  the  wagoner  set  her 
on  her  feet  she  laid  a  hand  on  the  moving  wheel. 
There  was  another  scream.  Pale  as  ashes, 
scarcely  comprehending  what  she  had  done,  the 
poor  girl  burst  into  tears  and  cried  heartily,  all 
three  brothers  pulling  at  her  dress,  and  scolding 
and  hugging  her  at  the  same  time. 

Maud  and  the  puppy,  a  few  feet  distant  now 
lifted  up  their  voices ;  Lottie,  with  her  sympathy 
in  broken  English,  added  to  the  medley  of 
sounds  as  she  came  to  see  what  had  happened. 
Finding  that  nothing  serious  had  caused  the 
outcry,  Lottie  soon  soothed  Polly  and  led  her 
into  the  house ;  the  torn  dress  was  made  tidy  and 
Polly  laughed  over  her  misadventure. 

Tad  watched  the  removal  of  the  goods  till  sat 
isfied  that  the  desk  was  not  among  them,  and 
then  suggested  getting  the  spruce.  He  had  a 
stout  pocket-knife;  armed  with  that  and  an  old 
basket.  Polly  and  he  set  off  to  the  grove.  Rol 
and  and  Robert,  after  disposing  of  their  pos 
sessions,  and  the  empty  wagons  had  returned 
for  another  load,  found  enough  to  occupy  them 
selves  going  over  the  premises  and  talking  with 
Darley  and  Browne.  Thus  the  day  wore  on. 

Mr.  Marston  had  made  arrangements  for  leav 
ing  the  office  early.  Darley  had  several  errands 
in  town,  then,  calling  at  the  house,  he  found 
Mrs.  Marston  and  Susan  ready  to  be  taken  to 


56  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

the  farm;  by  this  time  Mr.  Marston  could  ac 
company  them.  All  the  family  were  together 
and  impatient  for  dinner  before  Lottie  had  be 
gun  to  think  of  it. 

When  they  were  seated  at  table  Tad  began  to 
tell  with  great  gusto  of  Polly's  mishap. 

Observing  that  while  he  spoke  he  often  put 
his  hand  to  his  head,  Mrs.  Marston  cast  a  glance 
thither.  "  Why,  Tad !  Thaddeus,  my  son !  what 
ails  your  hair?" 

"  Nothing — nothing,  I  guess.  Oh,  no — only — 
yes — " 

He  colored,  stirred  the  hair  hastily. 

All  eyes  were  now  upon  him,  his  mother  scru 
tinizing  him  narrowly. 

"  Hardly  a  proper  topic  of  conversation  at 
this  time,"  remarked  his  father. 

"  But  how  can  I  help  it?  "  asked  his  mother. 
"  His  hair  is  in  an  abominable  condition." 

"  Carrots  are  sprouting  this  warm  weather,  I 
guess,"  said  Robert. 

This  allusion  to  the  color  of  his  hair  always 
vexed  Tad.  He  pushed  his  chair  back  and  was 
about  to  rise  from  the  table. 

"  Stay  where  you  are,  Thaddeus,  and  explain 
yourself,"  said  his  father. 

Poor  Taddie  was  so  agitated  he  could  not  com 
mand  his  voice.  He  stammered  so  painfully 
with — "I — I"  and  "she,  she,"  that  Mrs.  Mar- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  57 

ston  seeing  how  interested  Polly  seemed,  said, 
"  Pollywog,  you  know  something ;  tell  us." 

Then  Polly  told  a  rambling  story  about  Annie 
Nelson  and  Bertha  Simpson  and  Will  Leonard 
begging  yesterday  for  a  lock  of  Tad's  hair  be 
cause  she  was  going  to  live  at  Pleasant  Hill,  and 
of  borrowing  Miss  Martin's  scissors  to  cut  it, 
"  And  they  were  so  dull  and  the  hair  so  short, 
Annie  Nelson  cut  a  good  deal  that  had  to  be 
thrown  away." 

Harold,  who  had  begged  to  be  at  the  table 
(though  he  had  no  appetite)  looked  pitifully  on 
Tad's  cropped  head.  Polly  seemed  indifferent. 
All  the  others  laughed,  even  grandmother,  be 
hind  her  napkin. 

This  roused  Polly;  "You  have  to,  when  you 
go  away;  for  them  to  remember  you  by." 

"  And  if  you  like  anybody  you  want  them  to 
remember  you,"  said  Tad,  recovering  self-pos 
session.  "And  if  you  like  your  friends  you 
want  them  to  have  a  nice  lock,  if  you  do  have 
to  cut  a  lot  that  has  to  be  thrown  away,"  added 
Polly. 

"  Had  to  throw  away  about  enough  to  make  a 
wig,  I  suppose,"  said  Tom,  with  difficulty  con 
trolling  his  risibles,  as  Tad  tried  in  vain  to 
cover  his  bald  (spots  with  «a  few  thin  locks. 
Edith  said  if  the  hair  didn't  hurry  up,  there'd 


58  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

be  another  expense,  before  next  winter,  surely; 
his  father  would  have  to  buy  him  a  toupee. 

"  Taddie,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  wonder  I 
hadn't  noticed  it  before.  I'm  surprised." 

"  Polly  brushed  it,  and  fixed  it  as  nice  as  she 
could,"  he  returned. 

"  I  am  glad  she  did.  She  shall  fix  it  till  you 
can  attend  to  it  yourself,  and  no  one  shall  laugh 
or  scold  you  any  more  about  it." 

But  Taddie's  baldness  in  consequence  of  love 
locks  to  the  girls  at  school  was  a  standing  joke 
in  the  family  for  some  years. 

After  dinner  Mr.  Marston  took  two  armchairs 
to  the  verandah  and  bade  his  wife  leave  every 
thing  and  sit  there  awhile  with  himself  to  take  a 
little  ease  and  enjoy  the  sunset,  now  that  the 
most  fatiguing  part  of  the  moving  was  over. 
Darley  and  Browne  were  putting  down  matting 
and  putting  up  beds.  The  children  were  choos 
ing  and  arranging  furnishings  for  their  rooms, 
grandmother  and  Harold  holding  a  desultory 
talk  about  things  in  general. 

An  air  of  content  and  calm  satisfaction  per 
vaded  the  house,  to  which  the  happy  voices  and 
brisk  footsteps,  together  with  the  hammering 
and  trundling  upstairs,  were  as  a  jubilant 
chorus.  Out  of  doors,  in  the  declining  sun,  the 
gold  and  crimson  of  the  western  sky  were  fast 
fading  into  the  pale  green  and  purple  of  the  twi- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  59 

light.  A  sparrow  in  the  woodbine  over  the  side 
porch  twittered  occasionally,  and  a  lonely  robin 
in  the  larch-tree  near  the  dining-room  window 
trilled  his  evening  song.  All  else  was  silence 
and  rest  and  peace. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  change.  Susan  and 
Lottie  ran  to  the  verandah,  much  excited;  Maud 
was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

"Not  in  bed?  Not  to  be  found?"  cried  Mrs. 
Marston,  affrighted.  "Why,  Susan,  what  do 
you  mean?" 

"  Where  have  you  looked?  "  said  Mr.  Marston, 
angrily. 

Susan,  in  a  wild  tremor,  said  hurriedly  that 
when  Lottie  came  with  directions  about  the 
child's  supper  she  left  her  in  the  hall  playing 
with  Dun,  while  she  went  to  the  pantry  for  milk. 
When  she  had  procured  the  milk  and  bread 
Maud  was  not  in  the  hall,  and  she  supposed  the 
child  had  gone  with  Duncan  to  Polly,  or  some 
other  of  the  children,  or  where  the  men  were  put 
ting  down  carpets.  After  waiting  awhile,  ex 
pecting  some  of  the  other  children  would  bring 
her  down,  she  came  to  the  verandah. 

"  Expecting?  "  said  Mrs.  Marston.  "  When 
you  saw  she  wasn't  there,  why  didn't  you  go  im 
mediately  where  you  supposed  she  was?  " 

The  girl  hung  her  head  in  silence. 


60  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Go  on,  let  us  hear  the  worst  as  quickly  as 
possible,"  said  Mr.  Marston. 

"  That  is  all,"  she  sobbed. 

"  We  go  vairy  quick,  t'rough  t'e  whole  house, 
t'e  chambers,  'n'  t'e  rooms,  t'e  cellair,  too,  no 
baby  t'ere,"  Lottie  added,  shaking  her  head  dole 
fully. 

"  And  we  strangers  in  a  strange  house,  and  a 
strange  neighborhood!  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mar 
ston,  with  a  groan. 

And  "  while  you  were  expecting,  she  may 
have  been  carried  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,"  fairly 
screamed  Mr.  Marston,  beside  himself  with  rage 
and  grief. 

"  Oh,  that  closed-up  balcony,"  whispered  Su 
san,  (She  had  heard  of  the  mysterious  doings 
there. ) 

"  O,  God  help  us ! "  cried  Mr.  Marston. 
"  There's  not  a  moment  to  lose,  she  can't  have 
gotten  into  the  balcony,  surely." 

(Susan  was  now  sobbing),  "  Send  Darley  and 
Browne  to  search  the  neighborhood.  I'll  throw 
a  saddle  on  old  Prince  and  see  what  I  can  do," 
and  he  rushed  to  the  door. 

Mrs.  Marston,  pale  as  death,  asked  Susan  if 
she  had  looked  out-doors,  had  been  to  the  barn. 
She  nodded  affirmatively,  so  while  he  was  talk 
ing  to  the  men,  he  gave  directions  for  a  wider 
search. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  61 

Lottie  had  started  off  to  find  the  boys,  after 
the  two  men  came  clattering  down  stairs.  Tad 
tried  to  tell  the  men  to  go  to  the  pines,  because 
she  had  been  there  with  him  and  Polly  to  get 
spruce. 

The  men  looked  at  each  other  and  then  at  Mrs. 
Marston. 

"  Go,  go  there,"  she  said.  "  Go  with  them, 
Taddie.  Oh !  my  darling  baby !  " 

Edith  and  Polly  put  their  arms  around  their 
mother ;  and  still  she  cried,  "  She's  lost,  poor 
dear !  We  shall  never  see  her  again ;  wandering 
off  to  the  woods  and  the  swamps,  because  no 
body  cared  for  her." 

Grandmother  alarmed  at  the  commotion,  met 
them  in  the  hall.  "  Calm  yourself,  Mary,"  she 
whispered.  "  Remember  Harold.  Excitement 
may  be  his  death  The  child  will  soon  be  found, 
I've  no  doubt." 

Mrs.  Marston  allowed  her  to  lead  her  where 
Harold  was,  and  was  calm  before  they  reached 
him.  He  lay  on  the  lounge  in  the  parlor  suffer 
ing  with  headache.  He  looked  up  inquiringly. 

Grandmother  said  slowly,  "  Maud  has  slipped 
out  somewhere,  and  your  mother  is  so  tired  she 
is  getting  nervous  about  the  child.  Edith,  sup 
pose  you  go  over  the  house;  perhaps  Susan  and 
Lottie  were  too  hasty  in  their  search." 

Edith  and  Polly  did  as  she  suggested,  while 


62  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Tom  and  the  two  younger  boys  were  running  in 
and  out  of  all  the  out-buildings.  It  was  getting 
dark,  was  quite  dark  before  they  all  met  in  the 
hall,  with  no  tidings  of  the  lost  one. 

"  Get  lanterns,  Darley,  and  search  the  pines 
again,"  said  Mrs.  Marston ;  "  she  may  have 
fallen  asleep  there." 

They  went,  were  gone  a  long  time,  but  to  no 
avail. 

Mr.  Marston  came  home  nearly  distracted. 
He  had  seen  nothing,  but  had  been  told  by  a 
man  on  the  road  that  about  half  an  hour  pre 
vious  he  had  seen  a  carriage  driven  rapidly,  in 
which  were  two  or  three  persons  covered  with 
carriage  robes,  and  had  heard  a  child's  voice,  as 
if  expostulating,  when  they  turned  off  down  a 
lane.  He  felt  almost  certain  that  the  child  was 
Maud,  and  it  required  all  grandmother's  tact 
and  authority  to  keep  him  from  telling  Harold 
(who  was  now  becoming  anxious)  all  that  he 
feared. 

At  last,  as  if  by  a  sudden  inspiration,  grand 
mother  asked  Edith  and  Pauline  if  they  had 
searched  the  garret, 

No,  they  had  not ;  "  The  door  at  the  foot  of 
the  garret  stairs  was  shut,  of  course  she  wasn't 
up  there,  for  she  couldn't  have  shut  it  behind 
her." 

Susan  and  Lottie,  who  had  looked  into  all  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  63 

closets  on  the  first  floor,  were  passing  the  par 
lor  when  Edith  said  this. 

"  Oh !  I  shut  that  door  when  we  went  through 
•the  chamber  elntry,"  said  Susan.  "  I  had  struck 
my  head  against  it  and  thought^  it  was  danger 
ous  to  be  half  open." 

Mr.  Marston  started  eagerly.  "  Perhaps  she 
wandered  up  there;  go  right  up.  Stay!  I'll 
go,  myself." 

"And  fallen  asleep,  poor  little  dear,"  said 
grandmother. 

"  Frightened  to  death,  up  there  in  the  dark," 
said  Mrs.  Marston,  shuddering. 

Nevertheless,  she  followed  her  husband,  tak 
ing  a  lamp  from  the  hall  table,  and  they  went  up 
quietly.  All  the  others  stood  around  in  the  hall, 
Darley  and  Browne  in  the  rear.  As  they  thus 
waited  after  so  much  rapid  and  earnest  talk, 
the  silence  was  as  solemn  as  a  prayer.  A  cry 
from  Mr.  Marston  broke  it.  His  words  could 
not  be  distinguished,  but  his  tones  were  enough. 

Taddie  began  a  "  Hurrah !  "  grandmother  laid 
a  finger  on  his  lips  and  stopped  it,  everybody 
understood  what  she  meant.  Most  of  them 
sobbed,  though  all  smiled.  The  suspense  ended, 
they  hardly  knew  whether  to  laugh  or  cry. 
Harold  leaned  back  on  the  lounge  and  closed  his 
eyes.  Two  tears  rolled  down  his  thin,  pale 
cheeks'.  All  the  others  stood  still  in  the  hall 


64  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

when  Mr.  Marston  and  his  wife  came  down.  Mr. 
Marston  had  Maud  in  his  arms,  fast  asleep,  her 
pretty  brown  curls  in  disorder  and  nearly  hid 
ing  her  rosy  face;  her  best-beloved  doll,  Dinah, 
hugged  tight,  her  little  fingers  grasping  the 
doll's  black  clumsiness,  a  dilapidated  toy  kitten 
in  her  left  hand. 

"  Here  we  are,  all  right ! "  was  Mr.  Marston's 
cheery  salutation  to  his  mother.  Mrs.  Marston 
kissed  the  old  lady  effusively.  "  You  dear  grand 
mother,"  she  said,  "  the  wisest  head  in  the  house. 
To  think  she  might  have  been  there  all  night, 
and  days  and  days,  perhaps,  till  she  mourned 
herself  dead,  for  we  should  have  had  no  occasion 
to  go  there  at  present.  *  Take  only  rubbish  to  the 
garret/  I  told  Darley." 

"  When  he  was  taking  rubbish  up  there," 
returned  Susan,  "  she  saw  that  old  moth-eaten 
kitten  and  wanted  it.  I  told  her  'twas  a  nasty 
thing.  She  begged  for  it  a  good  while,  and  I  saw 
her  watch  Darley  as  he  went  up  the  stairs." 

"  Those  steep,  narrow  stairs ;  wasn't  she  smart 
to  climb  them?"  remarked  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  Poor  child !  if  she  had  aroused  in  the  night 
she  might  have  fallen  down  stairs  and  broken 
her  neck,"  said  grandmother;  "  that  will  of  hers 
leads  her  into  a  great  deal  of  danger." 

"Maud  stirred,  whispered  in  her  sleep,  and 
clutched  the  kitten  more  tightly. 


Mr.  Marston  bad  Maud  in  his  arms,  fast  asleep. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  65 

"  What  did  she  say?  "  whispered  Polly. 

Her  father  shook  his  head.  "We'll  not  dis 
turb  her,"  he  replied. 

"  Take  her  right  to  bed,  Susan,"  said  her 
mother. 

"  I  thank  you  heartily,  Darley,"  said  Mr.  Mar- 
ston.  "  And  you  too,  Browne.  Come,  boys  and 
girls,  it  has  been  a  tiresome  day  for  us  all." 

"  The  Lord  be  praised  for  all  our  mercies," 
ejaculated  grandmother,  "and  may  He  make 
us  more  worthy  of  our  blessings." 

"  Amen,"  was  her  isxm's  solemn  response.  Dar 
ley  moved  towards  the  door  and  Browne  fol 
lowed  him. 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Mrs.  Marston.  "  I 
want  to  know  you  both,  and  to  know  your  fam 
ilies  too;"  and  she  extended  a  hand  to  each; 
"  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  of  use  to  any  of  them,  as 
well  as  to  yourselves." 

The  two  men,  somewhat  abashed,  muttered 
something  inaudible  as  they  grasped  her  slender 
fingers.  Mrs.  Marston  must  have  understood 
what  they  said  for  she  replied,  "  O  yes !  Good 
night,  good  night!  God  bless  you  both,"  as  they 
turned  again  to  the  door,  Darley  dashing  the 
back  of  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  and  Browne 
drawing  a  red  coton  handkerchief  from  his  neck 
to  his  shaggy  eyebrows. 

"  Now,  Philip,  we  must  lead  grandmother  to 


66  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

her  room.  Children  we'll  call  the  day  closed. 
Good  night,  good  night,  all,"  she  added. 

"  I  must  scribble  a  few  lines  to  Maria ;  she 
wrote  anxiously  last  week,  you  know,  about  Har 
old,"  he  returned. 

"  Just  tell  her  where  we  are  and  that  he  is 
gaining." 

"  I  wonder  what  she  will  think  when  she  sees 
the  Pippoton  postmark,  and  finds  we  are  in  this 
dreadful  house,"  joined  her  husband  with  a  sar 
castic  smile. 

"And  she  so  well-acquainted  with  Doctor 
Hamilton." 

"  Yes.  I  believe  I've  not  told  you  what  Dr. 
Bought  on  said  when  he  handed  me  the  deed. 
No?  "  Well,  that  I  had  taken  a  great  burden  off 
his  shoulders;  that  the  Squire,  three  years  ago, 
begged  him  to  contradict  the  ugly  istories  about 
the  balcony  and  the  lights  and  noises  there,  and 
to  try  to  get  a  family  of  good  common  sense 
(like  ours)  to  live  there.  And  that  we  should 
be  a  blessing  to  Pippoton." 

"  Flattering,  wasn't  he?  "  said  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  responded  her  husband. 
"  He  meant  every  word  he  said,  he's  told  me 
since ;  and  it's  for  us  to  retrieve  the  good  name 
of  Pleasant  Hill.  We'll  try  for  it,  any  way,  and 
crush  out  those  ridiculous  falsities." 

Mrs.  Nelson  was  so  anxious  to  know  how  Har- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  67 

old  bore  the  moving  that,  at  sunset,  she  ordered 
Simon  to  harness  the  horse  and  drive  her  to 
Pleasant  Hill,  and  now,  just  as  Mrs.  Marston 
was  ready  to  retire  for  the  night,  she  rushed 
up  the  terrace  in  her  usual  impetuous  manner, 
and  with  a  hearty  grasp  of  Mrs.  Marston's  hand, 
began  to  ask  so  many  questions,  that  that  lady 
in  her  weary,  almost  distracted  condition,  could 
only  say,  "  We  are  all  right  now,  and  happy  to  be 
here." 

"  But  it  is  a  sacrifice,  I  can  see  it  is  a  sacri 
fice,"  said  Mrs.  Nelson,  scanning  the  pale,  tired 
features. 

"  It  isn't,  it  shall  not  be  a  sacrifice,"  she  re 
turned.  "  Whatever  Harold  is  to  meet,  we 
shan't  call  it  a  disappointment.  Perhaps,  even 
if  his  health  improves  here,  he  may  not  resume 
his  studies.  I  have  pondered  the  question  well, 
and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  he  must  do 
the  same  soon,  and  endeavor  to  find  out  what 
is  to  be  his  life  work,  his  vocation." 

"  And  you  will  be  satisfied  to  give  up  the  col 
lege  course  and  the  prestige  which  such  an  edu 
cation  would  give?  Do  you  realize  all  that?  " 
was  the  response. 

"  We  will  see,  we  will  see,"  said  Mrs.  Marston. 
"  I  believe  we  are  divinely  led,  and  our  leader 
is  Omniscient." 

"  True,  true,"  said  Mrs.  Nelson  hurriedly. 


68  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Whatever  Harold,  or  any  of  my  boys,  any 
of  my  children,  "  went  on  Mrs.  Marston,  "  are 
called  to  do,  or  to  bear,  they  will  have  my  en 
couragement,  assistance,  if  need  be." 

"  How  courageous  you  are !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Nelson,  as  she  answered  Simon's  call  at  the 
door. 

"  Courage  is  heart  work,  and  I  give  my  whole 
heart  to  it,"  was  Mrs.  Marston's  response. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  69 


CHAPTER  v. 

FIRST  IMPRESSIONS. 

SUNDAY  had  been  a  delightful  day  of  rest  for 
Mr.  Marston.  In  spite  of  the  rain  he  had  Prince 
harnessed,  and  in  the  buggy  with  the  boys 
crowding  round  him  he  didn't  mind  the  weather ; 
enjoyed  the  service,  and  felt  refreshed  by  the 
sermon.  He  didn't  complain,  but  the  anxiety 
and  care  of  his  family,  added  to  the  perplex 
ities  of  business  during  the  past  two  months  had 
worn  upon  him.  His  mother  and  his  wife  saw, 
with  great  concern,  that  he  was  getting  thin 
and  pale,  the  lines  on  his  face  deepening,  and  sil 
ver  threads  gathering  in  his  thick,  brown  hair. 

On  Monday  the  rain  still  fell,  but  business  and 
school  must  move  on ;  Tom,  with  his  father,  was 
driven  by  Darley  to  Hillsford ;  Roland  and  Rob 
ert  to  the  Pippoton  school,  and  they  were  glad 
to  go.  The  next  day,  Polly  and  Tad,  in  water 
proof  and  rubbers,  followed  them.  What  else 
could  they  do?  They  had  exhausted  all  their 


70  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

sources  of  amusement;  pigs,  and  cows,  and 
chickens,  even  Dunnie,  had  ceased  to  be  novel 
ties.  Darley  would  not  allow  them  to  go  near 
Charlie,  the  cart-horse;  and  Prince,  in  his  lei 
sure  hours  could  not  be  disturbed;  so  the  barn 
was  without  charm.  The  garden  and  orchard 
looked  dreary,  the  grove  worse.  They  were  for 
bidden  to  go  to  the  kitchen,  Lottie  was  too 
busy,  Susan  too  cross,  to  do  anything  for  their 
entertainment.  It  was  martyrdom  to  keep  still 
in  the  house  all  the  time,  as  they  felt  they  must, 
because  of  grandmother  and  Harold;  they  were 
delighted  to  look  up  their  books  and  make  them 
selves  ready  for  school. 

Polly  was  still  thoughtful  of  her  personal  ap 
pearance.  She  brushed  her  curls  till  they  shone 
and  tied  the  blue  ribon  on  the  top  of  her  head 
in  the  neatest  of  bows.  Now,  she  was  always  to 
wear  a  white  collar;  this,  too,  had  its  blue  bow. 
Her  dress  of  gray  flannel  was  tidiness  itself. 
Take  her  all  in  all  she  was  a  very  attractive- 
looking  little  body. 

And  she  took  great  pains  in  brushing  Taddie's 
hair  over  his  bald  spots,  "  Because  I  want  you 
to  look  nice,  as  well  as  myself,"  she  told  him. 
"  And  you  know  mama  sometimes  says  first  im 
pressions  ought  to  be  agreeable.  The  scholars, 
and  the  teacher,  too,  will  have  first  impressions 
of  us  when  they  see  us  to-day.  Taddie,  dear," 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  71 

she  continued,  after  tightening  the  bow  and 
smoothing  the  ends  of  his  necktie,  "  Please,  don't 
call  me  Pollywog  before  the  scholars  and  the 
teachers.  I  meant  to  ask  Pollie  and  Bert  not 
to;  but  I  guess  they  won't  be  in  our  room.  If 
they  are,  if  they  hear  me  give  my  name,  Pauline 
Maria,  they'll  understand,  I  suppose.  And 
you'd  better  be  sure  to  have  your  name  right 
too.  If  you  start  it  right,  Thaddeus  Thorndike, 
in  the  beginning,  there'll  be  no  trouble,  I  guess, 
about  keeping  it  so." 

"Huh!  I'd  rather  be  Tad  than  Thaddeus 
Thorndike,  so  there,  now!  Course,  you  don't 
want  the  fellows  bothering  with  such  a  great 
name  every  time  they  speak  to  you,"  and  Taddy 
sniffed  and  hemmed  with  scorn  and  indignation. 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  don't  like  it,  that's  another 
thing.  It's  more  respectable,  though." 

"  You  see  here,  Polly,"  returned  Tad,  feeling 
as  if  he  had  been  accused  of  a  fault,  "  I'm  re 
spectful,  I'll  leave  it  to  mama,  if  I'm  not,  when 
we  go  home.  I  always  say  '  yes,  sir,'  and  '  yes, 
ma'am/  and  *  please '  and  *  thank  you,'  when 
I  ought ;  and  I  try  not  to  interrupt  when  anyone 
is  speaking;  and  make  the  best  bow  I  can  to 
grown-up  folks." 

"  You  make  a  mistake  in  the  word,  children 
often  do  before  they  learn  definitions,  then  they 
find  out  about  different  words.  When  you  are 


72  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

as  old  as  I  am  and  learn  definitions  you'll  know 
how  to  choose  your  words." 

"  Now  you  just  stop,  Polly wog  Marston.  You 
needn't  feel  so  smart  about  your  old  definitions. 
I  don't  believe  you  can  bind  China — I  can." 

"Bound,  not  bind,  Taddie  dear,"  returned 
Polly,  who  wasn't  proficient  in  geography  yet 
wasn't  willing  Tad  should  have  a  complete  vic 
tory.  "And  I  said  respectable,  not  respectful. 
Grandma,  says  we  are  respectable  when  we  re 
spect  ourselves;  if  you  don't  respect  yourself  you 
can't  expect  others  to  treat  you  respectable.  I 
ought  to  have  -said  respectfully.  And  I  want  to 
be  treated  respectfully,  don't  you?" 

Tad  was  so  confused  by  Polly's  repetition  of 
so  many  big  words,  he  only  said,  "  It's  awful 
silly  to  care  what  people  call  your  name  if  you 
are  only  pleasant  and  kind." 

Polly  was  ready  with  an  answer  in  yet  more 
formidable  words  from  her  definitions,  but  the 
answer  was  put  to  flight  by  Bert's  command,  in 
no  very  agreeable  tones,  "  to  stop  that  loud  talk, 
and  hurry  up  or  they  wouldn't  get  in  before  the 
doors  were  closed,  and  school  rules  were  very 
strict  here." 

"  If  school  rules  are  strict,"  Polly  said  to  her 
self,  "she  shouldn't  care,  for  she  liked  the 
teacher  at  her  first  glance  of  those  bright,  brown 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  73 

eyes  and  at  the  smile  that  dimpled  her  pink 
cheeks." 

Miss  Leonard  had  such  winning  ways  that  the 
children  were  quickly  drawn  to  her;  she  called 
them  by  their  proper  names,  and  announced 
them  to  the  rest  of  her  pupils.  At  recess  they 
began  to  make  acquaintance  and  Polly  antici 
pated  many  good  times,  which,  to  her  sorrow, 
were  not  soon  to  be  realized. 

Rain  on  the  school-house  steps  had  made  them 
slippery,  and  Polly,  hurrying  out  at  the  noon 
intermission,  fell  to  the  cobblestone  pavement 
of  the  entrance.  She  was  stunned  by  the  blow 
and  made  not  a  sound;  but  all  the  school 
flocked  around  screaming  loudly.  Miss  Leonard, 
alarmed  by  the  uproar,  rushed  out  and  took  the 
child  in  her  arms.  She  was  in  a  dead  faint 
with  the  blood  streaming  from  her  nose  and 
mouth.  Tad  was  so  frightened  his  teeth  chat 
tered  and  his  knees  shook.  He  thought  she  waa 
dead,  but  he  could  neither  cry  nor  speak. 

Another  teacher  came  down,  Robert  and  Rol 
and  with  him.  They  brought  water.  Miss  Leon 
ard  bathed  her  face  and  tried  to  make  her  speak, 
but  she  was  insensible.  A  farmer  in  his  cart 
was  coming  up  the  road,  and  Mr.  Parks,  the 
teacher  beckoned  to  him,  and  they  placed  Polly 
in  it  on  a  cushion  from  the  recitation  room. 
Then  the  two  teachers  and  her  three  brothers 


74  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

got  in  and  the  man  drove  them  gently,  but  as 
fast  as  he  could,  to  Pleasant  Hill. 

When  they  reached  there  the  blood  was  still 
flowing,  though  not  so  fast.  Darley  saw  them 
coming,  ran  in  and  told  Lottie,  and  they  two 
took  her  in  their  arms  and  laid  her  on  the 
lounge  in  the  dining-room  before  Mrs.  Marston 
knew  anyone  had  come  in.  Roland  ran  from 
room  to  room  till  he  had  found  her.  She  was  in 
grandmother's  room.  "  Tell  them  to  bring  her 
right  up  here,"  said  grandmother;  "Don't  go 
down,  Mary — better  not." 

While  they  were  bringing  her  upstairs,  Polly 
opened  her  eyes  and  said  something  indistinctly. 
By  the  time  they  reached  grandmother's  room 
she  had  roused  enough  to  say  "  O  mama,  mama." 
They  laid  her  on  grandmother's  bed ;  she  put  her 
hand  to  her  head,  and  fainted  again.  Mrs.  Mar 
ston  sent  Darley  immediately  for  Dr.  Houghton, 
who  soon  came.  Polly  was  able  to  tell  him  all 
about  the  accident  when  he  arrived. 

"  Those  cobble-stones !  "  he  said  angrily.  "  It's 
no  more  than  I  expected.  When  I  heard  of  that 
pavement  I  told  one  of  the  committee  they  were 
crazy.  What  if  there  was  mud  there  on  rainy 
days!  Better  that  than  broken  limbs — Stupid 
dolts!" 

Having   spent   his    anger   he  examined    the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  75 

child's  head  and  face  very  tenderly  and  quietly 
stopped  the  bleeding. 

"  The  brunt  of  the  blow  was  on  the  face.  I'm 
glad  of  that.  She'll  be  all  right  before  long,  if 
she  is  patient." 

Mrs.  Marston  said  she  could  assure  him  of 
Polly's  patience,  grandmother  added  that  she'd 
help  her  to  be  patient. 

"  That's  favorable.  Now,  then,  we'll  have 
some  splints  to  make  it  snug  and  straight  and 
comfortable."  He  pointed  to  Polly's  nose  with 
a  significant  look  toward  her  mother.  "  And  as 
quickly  as  possible,  before  it  swells.  Now,  for 
once  in  my  life,  I'm  lucky,  for  here  they  are  in 
my  valise." 

Polly  knew  what  splints  were,  hadn't  she 
found  out  in  her  definitions?  and  why  they  were 
used?  At  that  moment  definitions  didn't  seem 
a  desirable  study,  she  almost  wished  she  knew 
nothing  about  them. 

"  It's  broken,  that's  what  the  splints  are  for," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  I  suppose  it  will  always 
be  crooked,  like  Richard  Miller's  leg  that  he 
broke." 

Her  mother  bathed  the  nose,  and  then  the 
rest  of  her  face,  carefully.  She  felt  very  miser 
able,  too  miserable  to  cry,  and  though  the  doc 
tor  was  very  tender  in  arranging  the  splints, 
she  had  a  good  deal  of  pain.  Then  her  head  be- 


76  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

gan  to  ache  dreadfully,  and  her  eyes  felt 
strangely.  Her  mother  gave  her  medicine,  spoke 
very  low  about  it,  as  if  she  felt  she  was  very 
sick,  and  kissed  her  two  or  three  times  on  her 
forehead.  The  next  thing  she  knew  it  was  very 
dark,  and  her  father's  voice  was  speaking  very 
pitifully,  and  calling  her  his  brave,  patient  girl, 
and  then  she  felt  his  kiss  on  her  forehead  just 
where  her  mother's  was.  She  must  have  been 
asleep  a  long  time,  she  thought;  but  was  awake 
now  though  she  couldn't  open  her  eyes;  and  her 
nose  and  all  her  face  felt  queerly.  And  Tad  was 
there.  She  heard  him  whisper,  "  Will  she  al 
ways  be  blind?  Can't  she  never  open  them 
again?  " 

And  then  she  heard  him  sob,  and  his  father 
hush  him  and  try  to  soothe  him. 

She  made  a  great  effort  to  speak.  How 
strangely  her  voice  sounded!  But  they  knew 
she  said  "  Papa." 

And  then  her  father  took  both  her  hands  in 
his  and  pressed  them  softly;  and  said  she  must 
try  to  sleep  all  she  could,  so  as  to  get  better 
fast. 

She  wanted  to  ask  if  she  was  always  going  to 
be  blind;  but  she  only  asked  if  she  must  keep 
her  eyes  shut. 

And  then  he  said  her  face  was  swollen  so  that 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  77 

the  eyes  had  to  shut,  but  he  hoped  they  would 
be  all  right  to-morrow. 

Then  her  mother  fed  her  with  gruel  and  after 
wards  gave  her  medicine.  She  felt  drowsy.  Her 
mother  said  she  had  better  not  try  to  talk,  if 
she  was  comfortable  to  squeeze  her  hand.  And 
that  was  the  last  she  knew  till  she  heard  the 
clock  strike  six,  and  one  of  her  eyes  opened  a 
little,  and  she  saw  she  was  in  a  bed,  in  her  grand 
mother's  room,  her  mother  sitting  in  a  chair 
near. 

Her  mother  came  toward  the  bed,  and  then 
went  to  the  door  and  called  "Taddie!" 

Tad  came  in  hurriedly,  and  began  to  cry.  She 
heard  him. 

"  Come  here,  Taddie ;  I  can  see  you  with  one 
eye,"  she  said  in  a  queer,  weak  voice. 

He  went  close  to  the  bed,  still  crying  softly. 

"  O  Polly  dear,"  he  said.  "  I'm  awfully  sorry. 
And  I  wish  I  hadn't  been  so  cross  yesterday 
about  names  and  definitions."  His  tears  came 
so  fast  he  couldn't  say  another  word. 

"  That  wasn't  anything,"  she  answered. 
"Don't  feel  bad  about  that." 

"  I  can't  help  feeling  bad  about  it."  A  big 
sob  choked  utterance,  then  he  went  on.  "  I — I 
won't  ever  talk  so  again,  if  you'll  forgive  me  and 
forget  it." 


78  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"Why,  Taddie,  I  had  forgotten  it,  and  it 
didn't  need  to  be  forgiven,"  said  Polly. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  'their  mother.  "  She 
mustn't  talk  any  more  now." 

He  went  out  slowly,  and  burst  into  a  loud 
wail  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  Polly's  hearing. 
His  father  came  to  him.  "  Is  she  always  going 
to  look  like  that?"  he  sobbed. 

"  I  hope  not,  I  think  not,  my  dear  boy.  But 
I  am  thankful  her  life  is  spared.  We  won't 
mind  looks  if  we  can  have  our  merry  little  Polly 
well  again." 

Tad  was  so  shocked  by  Polly's  appearance  it 
was  thought  best  to  refuse  all  company  to  grand 
mother  Marston's  room  for  the  present.  It  was 
more  than  a  week  after  the  accident  before 
Edith  and  Tom  were  allowed  to  go  there.  She 
was  sitting  in  her  grandmother's  old-fashioned 
easy-chair  then,  and  said  she  was  nicely  all  but 
her  nose.  "  It  feels  funny,  and  I  suppose  it 
looks  so.  But  Dr.  Houghton  said  yesterday, 
when  he  fixed  the  splints  'again,  it  was  doing 
well,"  she  said.  "  With  the  bandage  and  all, 
I'm  'Something  like  an  Egyptian  mummy,  I 
guess." 

She  smiled  a  queer,  distorted  smile  that  made 
Edith  groan. 

"  Why  don't  you  laugh?    I  believe  I  should  if 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  79 

I  coud  see  myself.  You  may,  Tom.  I  shouldn't 
mind." 

"You're  a  brick,  Polly,"  said  Tom,  "spunky 
enough  for  the  whole  family.  No  matter  how 
you  look,  you're  just  as  splendid,  and  jolly  as 
ever ! " 

"  Grandma  thinks  I  may  want  to  see  how  com 
ical  my  nose  is  going  to  be,  and  she  don't  want 
me  to  yet,  so  she's  covered  the  looking-glass  with 
her  blue  shawl."  She  laughed  and  pointed  to 
ward  it.  "But  it's  going  to  be  just  as  good  as 
ever,  and  Dr.  Houghton  says  I  ought  to  be 
thankful  for  that." 

Then  she  wanted  to  know  what  had  been  go 
ing  on  in  the  family,  her  mother  told  her  every 
day  about  Harold,  his  cough  was  easier,  his  ap 
petite  better,  and  he  said  he  felt  stronger. 

"  Dear  Oldie !  I'm  so  glad.  He's  been  sick  so 
long,"  she  said,  with  a  little  sigh,  "and  its 
dreadfully  tiresome  to  be  sick.  I  used  to  say 
I'd  like  to  have  the  measles,  or  something  be 
cause  everybody  is  so  kind  in  sickness,  and  Kol- 
lie  and  Robert  when  they  were  getting  well  from 
measles  had  such  nice  things  to  eat.  But  I 
didn't  think  what  queer  feelings,  and  aches,  you 
must  have.  I  hope  I  shan't,  ever,  be  sick  again." 

"  I  hope  not  also,"  said  grandmother.  "  Now 
you  mustn't  say  another  word.  Let  them  tell 
you  something." 


80  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

So  Edith  gave  a  detailed  account  of  matters. 
Maud  was  beginning  to  learn  to  read,  could 
point  out  A  and  O  and  E  wherever  she  saw 
them.  Taddie  was  getting  wild  flowers,  violets 
and  hepaticas  for  Harold  every  day,  and  had 
set  out  a  wild  iris  root  in  the  garden,  because 
Harold  meant  sometime  to  cultivate  wild 
flowers.  Mr.  Sterling,  the  minister,  and  his 
daughter,  a  very  nice  young  lady,  had  called  to 
ask  about  the  accident.  And  the  apple  trees 
were  blooming.  Best  of  all,  Mrs.  Sinclair,  and 
her  sister,  Miss  Maria  Mordaunt,  had  called 
twice,  and  talked  about  their  school  acquaint 
ance  with  aunt  Maria.  They  lived  in  the  old 
gray  house  with  the  funny  windows  and  long, 
sloping  roof.  Miss  Leonard  and  Mr.  Park  had 
dropped  in  on  their  way  to  school  every  morn 
ing,  and  Miss  Mordaunt  had  brought  in  some  of 
her  pictures  for  Harold  to  look  at.  She  was  an 
artist  and  would  teach  Harold  to  paint  when 
he  was  well  enough. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  would  teach  me,"  said  Polly. 

"  Why !  you  are  going  to  have  music  lessons. 
I  shall  want  you  to  begin  as  soon  as  Harold  can 
bear  the  noise  of  practicing." 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,  but  oh,  I  should  like 
to  be  an  artist ! " 

"Now,  Polly,  my  dear!"  said  her  grand 
mother  very  tenderly,  "  not  another  word ! 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  81 

Edith  has  given  you  enough  to  think  about  for 
two  or  three  days,  and  she  and  Thomas  must 
prepare  for  school." 

Two  long  weeks  more  Polly  had  to  remain  in 
her  grandmother's  room,  but  every  morning  one 
or  another  of  her  brothers  came  to  tell  her  of 
school  matters.  Tad  was  especially  pleased  to 
tell  what  Miss  Leonard  was  teaching  the  boys 
about  the  beautiful  things  around  us  in  out-door 
life  that  are  apt  to  be  overlooked.  She  had  a 
microscope,  and  as  he  was  particularly  inter 
ested  in  bugs  ( "  insects,"  he  had  learned  to  call 
them)  she  lent  it  to  him,  that  he  might  let 
Polly  see  how  wonderful  and  how  beautiful  they 
are.  They  were  fortunate  that  day,  for  they 
saw  a  caterpillar  crawling  on  the  window,  and 
grandma  allowed  Tad  to  climb  up  and  bring  it 
in  and  examine  it  under  the  microscope;  and 
then  she  placed  it  in  a  litte  box,  and  he  took 
it  to  Miss  Leonard;  and  afterwards  Miss  Leon 
ard  wrote  a  nice  note  to  Polly,  all  about  the 
caterpillar,  so  that  Polly  began  to  think  she 
would  drop  definitions  when  she  returned  to 
school  and  study  about  insects. 

At  last  Dr.  Houghton  pronounced  Polly's  nose 
well,  she  had  consent  to  occupy  her  own  room 
and  to  go  about  the  house. 

"  One  thing  more,  dear,"  said  grandmother 
Mars-ton,  taking  the  shawl  from  the  looking 


82  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

glass.  She  spoke  very  tenderly  and  her  voice 
trembled.  Passing  an  arm  around  the  child 
she  led  her  forward.  One  glance  at  the  reflec 
tion  in  the  glass,  and  then  a  fearful  "  Oh ! "  a 
groan  that  pierced  the  grandmother's  heart,  and 
poor  Polly  hid  her  face  in  the  good  old  lady's 
bosom.  Sobs  and  groans  followed. 

Mrs.  Marston  had  met  Dr.  Houghton  and  she 
hastened  up  immediately.  "  Oh,  my  darling, 
my  darling ! "  she  exclaimed,  taking  her  to  her 
lap  and  covering  her  curls  with  kisses — she 
couldn't  reach  her  face  for  Polly  hid  it  with  her 
hands. 

Grandmother  Marston  looked  on  in  agony,  her 
aged  face  haggard  with  the  grief  she  felt;  Mrs. 
Marston,  no  less  distressed,  was  pale  and  tremb 
ling  with  emotion.  Nothing  was  said  for  some 
minutes.  Polly  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  O 
mama,  mama!  I  didn't  think  it  could  be  so  bad 
— so  ugly.  I  shall  never  want  anybody  to  see 
me  again."  A  frantic  sob,  and  then,  "  How  can 
you  and  grandma  love  me?  I  wish  I  could  go 
away  and  hide,  always,  always." 

"  Why,  Polly  Maria !  "  said  her  grandmother, 
"do  you  think  we  have  only  loved  your  face? 
No  matter  how  plain  or  ugly  you  may  think 
your  face  looks1,  dear,  we  believe  you  have  a 
beautiful  soul,  and  that  makes  your  face  pre 
cious  and  dear  to  us,  and  will  always  keep  it  so 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  83 

for  us.  It  is  the  Polly  in  the  face,  that  nothing 
can  make  disagreeable;  and  you  will  be  just  the 
same  to  us  as  before  the  accident." 

The  sobs  still  continued,  though  less  violent. 
"  Don't  dear !  "  said  her  mother.  "  You  must 
control  your  feelings,  or  perhaps  inflammation 
may  set  in." 

"Then  I  should— die— shouldn't  I?  I 
wish — " 

The  tears  gushed  out  afresh,  she  could  not 
speak. 

"  You  naughty,  naughty  child ! "  from  grand 
mother  checked  both  speech  and  tears.  "  This, 
after  all  our  nice  talks  about  what  you  are  go 
ing  to  do  when  grown  up!  You  know  I  have 
told  you  God  has  sent  you  into  the  world  to 
work  for  Him,  to  help  Him  in  making  other 
people  happy,  and  that  in  doing  so  you  will 
gain  happiness  yourself.  By  and  by  you  will 
understand  why  He  sent  you  this  accident." 

Polly  now  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  looked 
in  her  mother's  face  with  the  sweet  smile  that 
used  to  make  her  very  beautiful. 

"  I'll  try  to  think  so,  dear  mama,"  she  said, 
"  But  do  you  suppose  my  cheek  will  be  such  a 
funny  color,  like  *  rainbows  run  mad,'  as  Mrs. 
Nelson  said  Carrie  Hilton's  plaid  dress  looked." 
S'he  laughed,  but  there  was  a  wistful  look  in 
her  eyes. 


84  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Oh,  no,"  was  the  cheerful  response.  "  That 
is  the  effect  of  the  bruise;  your  complexion  will 
be  as  clear  as  ever  soon." 

"  My  nose  will  be  comical,  always,  won't  it?" 

"  Perhaps  not,  as  you  grow  the  shape  will 
probably  improve." 

"  Pauline,"  said  grandmother  Marston,  rather 
severely,  for  she  was  very  sorry  to  have  Polly  so 
much  concerned  about  her  looks,  "  think  no 
more  about  it.  Remember  it  is  the  expression, 
the  kind  and  good  thoughts  behind  the  features, 
that  makes  a  face  lovely." 

It  was  a  very  happy  group  that  Mr.  Marston 
and  Tom  saw,  as  they  came  up  the  carriage  way, 
that  afternoon:  Harold  in  his  wheel-chair  on 
the  verandah,  Duncan  asleep  in  his  lap,  his 
mother  and  his  wife,  (Maud  between  them,)  on 
the  parlor  couch,  Edith  on  a  stool  at  Harold's 
feet,  Robert  looking  over  the  letters  she  was 
embroidering. 

"  Most  done,  isn't  it?  "  said  Bert.  "  How  nice 
it  looks,  and  how  sweet;  and  the  words  are  just 
the  thing:  *  Sleep,  the  kind  angel,  is  with  me,' 
he  sang  uproariously.  Say  Edith,  why  can't 
you  make  me  one?  " 

Mr.  Marston  heard  the  singing;  but  when  he 
saw  Polly  in  the  hammock;  with  one  bound  he 
was  beside  her,  singing  in  response.  "  Thanks 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  85 

for  this  blessing  vouchsafed  me,"  and  covering 
her  face  with  kisses. 

"  Do  have  a  little  mercy  on  the  child,  Philip," 
said  grandmother. 

"  I  will,  I  will,"  he  returned  gaily.  "  But  I 
am  overjoyed."  His  strong  hand  was  instantly 
swinging  the  hammock,  till  Polly  had  to  beg 
him  to  stop,  her  head  was  so  dizzy.  Then  he 
took  off  his  hat,  wiped  his  brow  and  placed  a 
chair  "  where  he  could  look  at  her,  fan  himself 
with  his  hat  and  talk  comfortably,"  he  said. 
Harold  told  of  Bert  and  Koland  drawing  him  in 
his  chair  to  the  pine  grove  at  noon,  and  of  what 
they  found  there,  "  a  bumble  bee's  nest,  a  chip 
munk's  hole,  and  a  rock  that  he  thought  had 
veins  of  metal,  silver,  or  tin." 

"  Very  opportune,  very  opportune ;  extremely 
so,"  said  their  father.  "  I  expect  an  addition  to 
the  family  soon,  and  shall  need  a  quantity  of 
silver;  and  gold,  too,  I'm  inclined  to  think,  to 
pay  for  all  expenses, — wish  we  could  discover  a 
mine  on  the  farm." 

Everybody  was  alert  to  know  if  he  were  se 
rious,  and  what  the  addition  could  be. 

"  I  had  a  letter  this  morning,"  he  went  on 
tto  say,  looking  at  grandma  Mansiton,  "from 
Maria;  afterward  a  telegram  came  within  the 
hour.  She  is  quite  ill,  though  not  dangerously 
so,  I  imagine,  but  she  is  in  a  good  deal  of  trouble 


86  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and  wants  Mary  and  me  to  come  to  her  as  soon 
as  possible.  The  letter  says  William  is  gone, 
she  doesn't  know  where.  That  base-ball  busi 
ness  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble.  He  has 
been  betting  and  laying  out  a  great  deal  of 
money,  and  'has  helped  himself  to  the  cash  in 
his  employer's  safe  to  pay  his  debts  till, — well, 
finally,  he  has  absconded.  And  there  is  his 
mother  left  with  Ruth,  thirteen  years  old,  you 
know,  and  the  baby,  not  a  year  yet,  born  after 
Mr.  Mordaunt  died,  you  know.  I  have  sent  a 
return  telegram  that  we  will  start  to-morrow. 
I  am  delighted  to  be  able  to  go  feeling  easy  about 
the  family,  the  sick  ones  are  so  much  better. 
And  we  shall  bring  Maria  and  her  children 
home  with  us." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  87 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE   MOEDAUNTS. 

When  Maria  Marston  and  Henry  Mordaunt 
married,  most  of  their  friends  prophesied  for 
them  a  long  and  happy  life  together.  They  were 
in  excellent  health,  and  nearly  of  the  same  age, 
of  similar  tastes  and  dispositions,  of  good  prin 
ciples  and  correct  standard  of  conduct.  His 
father  had  a  comfortable  property  and  a  remu 
nerative  business.  It  was  supposed  that  the  chil 
dren,  Henry  and  his  two  sisters,  would  inherit 
a  very  handsome  amount.  Maria  had  recently 
come  into  possession  of  an  estate  that  yielded 
a  good  income,  making  her  independent  of  her 
husband's  resources.  Thus  their  future  looked 
bright, 

It  was  fortunate  that  they  had  such  provision 
for  self  support.  Before  they  had  been  married 
a  year  Henry's  father  died,  and  it  was  found 
that  his  estate  was  encumbered  so  by  bad 
debts,  that  the  heirs  would  realize  only  a  small 


88  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

sum.  Henry,  expecting  a  large  legacy,  had 
loaned  money  to  a  friend  to  assist  him  in  doubt 
ful  ventures.  Mr.  Mordaunt  had  furnished  his 
son  with  nominal  employment  for  which  he  was 
paid  a  small  salary.  Now  that  could  no  longer 
be  his. 

In  this  state  of  affairs,  it  was  some  consola 
tion  to  know  that  his  wife's  income  would  keep 
her  above  want.  She  declared  that  they  had  no 
occasion  to  worry  while  that  lasted. 

This  state  of  things  was  of  brief  duration. 
Within  five  years  expenses  rose  beyond  her  in 
come,  in  spite  of  close  economy.  Then  the  prin 
cipal  suffered  encroachment,  so  all  other  occupa 
tions  being  beyond  him,  Mr.  Mordaunt  took  up 
teaching.  This  soon  became  irksome ;  and,  imag 
ining  he  had  an  ailment  that  required  different 
atmospheric  conditions,  he  invested  the  remnant 
of  his  wife's  property  in  a  small  cattle  ranch  in 
Colorado,  and  removed  the  family  there,  his 
wife,  a  daughter  of  ten,  and  a  son  of  twelve 
years.  Three  years  of  alternate  success  and 
failure  followed;  then,  in  an  encounter  with  an 
unruly  steer,  his  career  ended.  A  kind  neighbor 
effected  the  sale  of  the  ranch,  and  Mrs.  Mor 
daunt  went  with  her  children  to  Denver  where 
she  began  housekeeping  in  a  small  way,  some  of 
her  relatives  affording  assistance  occasionally. 
Mr.  Philip  Marston,  her  brother,  offering  her  a 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  89 

home  if  she  should  decide  to  return  to  her  native 
place.  But  she  was  proud,  and  still  hopeful  of 
better  days. 

"  I  am  truly  grateful  to  you,  Philip,"  she 
wrote  in  reply  to  this  offer.  "  My  son  will  soon 
be  old  enough  to  be  earning.  With  what  I  can 
make  at  embroidery  and  the  small  sums  my 
relatives  send  me,  we  can  get  along;  so  I  will 
remain  here  awhile/' 

After  this  came  less  sanguine  letters,  and  then 
request  for  more  help,  she  was  disabled  for  the 
present  from  work,  and  had  another  claimant 
for  support.  "  He  is  a  beautiful  boy,  the  image 
of  his  father.  I  have  given  him  his  father's 
name,  Henry.  My  eldest,  William,  is  fond  of 
him  and  planning  all  sorts  of  delightful  things 
for  his  future." 

"  Just  like  his  father,  that  William  is,  I  sup 
pose,"  said  Mr.  Philip  Marston,  "always  plan 
ning  and  scheming.  But  what  came  of  it  all? 
Give  me  performance,  good,  steady  work  before 
all  the  most  beautiful  plans." 

"  My  son,"  said  grandmother  Marston,  "  it 
seems  to  me  that  Henry  Mordaunt  never  found 
his  right  place  in  the  world.  He  was  one  of 
those  unfortunates,  who  because  of  environment 
or  mismanagement,  are  never  fully  developed 
here,  and  so  miss  their  natural  position." 


90  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Too  timid  to  try  to  find  it,  I  should  say," 
rejoined  her  son,  "  and  fickle  as  the  wind." 

"  He  was  like  a  plant  growing  in  the  dark 
without  light  and  warmth,  unable  to  put  forth 
its  best  qualities.  Maria  was  poorly  calculated, 
as  we  have  seen,  to  set  him  in  the  light,  to  stim 
ulate  him  toward  the  attainment  of  better 
growth." 

"Well,  perhaps  you  are  right.  I  wonder  if 
anything  less  than  an  earthquake,  or  a  tornado, 
could  have  roused  him  to  a  sense  of  his  needs, 
and  his  delinquencies." 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  sad  end 
of  Henry's  friend,  Dr.  Hamilton,  had  much  to 
do  with  his  dull,  inanimate  way  of  accepting 
life's  possibilities,  such  "brilliant  promises  so 
suddenly  brought  to  naught,  and  the  distressing 
sequence  to  such  a  glowing  youth ! " 

"  I've  sometimes  thought,"  said  Mr.  Marston, 
"  that  Maria  married  him  solely  from  pity  and 
sympathy  for  his  crushing  disappointment  by 
the  doctor's  death,  and  in  such  a  tragic  manner." 

"Death?  I  have  never  felt  that  Richard 
Hamilton  is  dead,  or  that  he  died  in  that  terrible 
explosion.  And,  as  to  Maria,  I'm  inclined  to 
think  that  she  firmly  believes  that  he  will  make 
his  appearance  when  he  can  bring  money  enough 
to  pay  off  his  indebtedness  to  his  father's  es 
tate,"  remarked  grandmother  Marston. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  91 

The  next  letter  spoke  of  Willie  as  nervous,  im 
patient  of  control,  tired  of  his  studies,  dislik 
ing  school,  leaving  it  and  going  into  a  retail  dry- 
goods  store  to  learn  the  business.  "  He  is  a 
great  favorite  with  his  employer  and  the  clerks," 
was  the  letter's  conclusion. 

A  little  later,  came  another  letter.  "  Wil 
liam's  health  requires  some  relaxation.  A  boy 
of  his  age  ought  not  to  be  mewed  up  within 
doors  all  the  time.  He  must  have  exercise  differ 
ent  from  the  routine  of  business,  and  in  the  free 
air,  or  he  will  break  down:  so  he  has  joined  a 
base-ball  club;  it  is  splendid  practice  for  him, 
very  healthful  exercise,  and  he  enjoys  it  im 
mensely,  two  afternoons  a  week.  It  calls  for 
money,  though,  and  not  a  little.  But  what  is 
that  where  his  health  is  concerned?  Fortu 
nately,  I  can  spare  it,  having  lately  obtained  two 
new  customers  for  my  needle-work;  and  Ruth 
is  as  good  and  pretty  as  she  can  be  and  so  handy 
with  the  baby,  that  I  have  a  great  deal  more 
time  for  sewing. 

Ten  days  later  she  wrote  of  William's  mis 
conduct  and  her  illness.  Ruth,  at  her  mother's 
dictation,  had  sent  the  telegram  desiring  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marston  to  come  to  her.  Little  prepar 
ation  was  needed  for  their  start  the  next  day  at 
noon. 

Edith  had  proved  so  efficient  a  housekeeper 


92  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

that  few  directions  were  necessary  to  ensure  the 
usual  regularity  of  procedure;  indeed  she  was 
so  proud  of  the  trust  reposed  in  her  that  her 
father  had  some  fears  of  neglect  for  her  school 
studies  and  her  music. 

"  You  know,  dear,"  said  he,  "  how  I  depend 
on  music  to  refresh  and  enliven  me,  and  to  keep 
us  all  in  good  spirits.  I  can't  allow  any  fall 
ing  off  in  that." 

He  also  gave  suggestions  as  to  employment  to 
the  other  children.  Harold,  he  very  earnestly 
charged  not  to  overexert  himself  in  the  pleasure 
he  felt  in  increasing  health. 

Lottie,  as  usual,  was  quick  to  offer  her  serv 
ices  in  any  way.  "  T'e  chil'en  shall  be  no 
trooble,"  she  said.  "  An  Taddie  borrow  me  Dun, 
so  I  take  nice  walks  in  t'e  maydoo  wiv  lovely 
flooars  for  Harold." 

"  How  well  you  are  looking,  Mary,"  said  the 
old  lady,  as  they  came  in.  "  It  does  my  eyes 
good  to  see  you,  and  to  know  you  start  on  the 
journey  in  such  good  health." 

"  It  was  well  that  she  took  my  advice  and  had 
a  rest  after  the  moving,"  said  Mr.  Marston. 
"  She  wouldn't  have  been  in  condition  to  under 
take  travelling  as  she  then  was,  trying  to  attend 
to  so  much  of  the  housework  with  her  whole  per 
son,  body,  soul  and  spirit,  in  misery,  from  sheer 
weariness." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  93 

Mrs.  Marston  smiled  as  she  said,  "  I  believe 
the  rest  has  been  beneficial.  But  Harold's  gain 
has  relieved  me  of  the  anxiety  and  despondency 
I  felt." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  grandmother  re 
sponded.  "  But  why  do  you  ever  despond  when 
you  know  the  effect  upon  your  health?" 

"  Ah !  that's  a  question  not  easily  answered," 
said  Mr.  Marston. 

Maud  had  left  her  father's  shoulder  and  was 
now  helping  herself  to  the  candy  in  her  grand 
mother's  bureau  drawer.  A  few  words  of  cau 
tion  about  allowing  the  children  too  much  lib 
erty,  and  the  fear  that  they  would  deprive  her 
of  her  refreshing  nap,  then  there  was  an  affec 
tionate  leave-taking. 

Darley  took  the  travellers  and  their  trunks 
to  the  railroad  station  in  Hillsford  in  time  for 
the  evening  train  to  New  York.  There  they 
were  to  meet  Mr.  Howard,  Mr.  Marston's  part 
ner,  who  had  been  commissioned  to  secure  for 
them  berths  in  a  sleeping  car  on  the  night  train. 

When  the  buggy  had  disappeared  from  view, 
Edith  opened  the  piano  and  began  to  play  a 
nocturne,  a  special  favorite  of  her  father.  Polly 
heard  the  music,  and  importuned  Edith  to  give 
her  lessons.  "  Not  just  yet,"  returned  Edith, 
after  she  had  borne  the  teasing  till  patience  was 
exhausted,  "  not  quite  yet.  You  know  it  was 


94  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

settled  some  time  ago  that,  when  Harold  is  well 
enough,  I  may.  I'm  not  sure  Mama  would  say 
he  is  well  enough.  You  know  he  had  a  bad  head 
ache  this  afternoon  and  has  hacl  to  lie  down. 

"  Oh !  that  was  because  papa  and  mama  were 
going  away.  He  just  said  that  he  was  ten  times 
better  than  when  we  lived  in  Hillsford." 

"  Don't  trouble  me,  Pollywog.  I  want  to  get 
these  chords  more  smoothly.  Go  away  now,  and 
let  me  be  alone. " 

"  O  dear,  I  can't  go  to  school,  nor  anything," 
whined  afflicted  Polly. 

"  Why,  my  little  toadling,"  said  Tom,  coming 
in  to  see  what  the  discussion  was  about ;  "  you 
are  not  well  enough. 

This  was  more  than  Polly  could  bear.  To  be 
called  Pollywog  by  Edith  was  hard  enough. 
But  here  was  another  and  more  hateful  name, 
that  she  had  never  known,  and  it  seemed  to  im 
ply  great  degradation.  She  broke  into  a  loud 
wail  and  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  sobbing 
violently. 

Grandmother,  who  felt  that  the  air  was  get 
ting  too  damp  for  her  to  remain  out  of  doors 
longer,  heard  the  outcry  and  quickened  her 
steps;  "Why!  what  has  happened?  Thomas, 
what  have  you  done  or  said  to  grieve  her  so?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  didn't  mean  any  harm,"  he  re- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  95 

plied,  laughing.  "  If  I've  grieved  her,  I'm 
sorry ; "  and  he  stroked  her  hair  lovingly. 

"  I'm  not  a  toad,  not  any  sort  of  a  one,  and  I 
don't  like  to  be  called  that,"  said  Polly,  now 
controlling  her  voice. 

"  O,  there,  grandma !  I  see  now ; "  said  Tom : 
"  Harold  and  I  have  been  watching  little  young 
toads',  quite  a  procession  of  them,  hopping  and 
trotting  across  the  drive-way;  and  when  I  saw 
Pauline  trotting  around,  just  as  lively  as  she 
used  to  be,  I  was  so  glad,  I  called  her  my  little 
toadling." 

"That  was  all?"  she  returned,  looking  from 
him  to  Polly. 

"  Yes,  and  Edith  had  just  called  me  Polly- 
wog.  I  hate  such  names." 

Tom  had  disappeared.  Grandma  had  taken 
an  armchair  beside  the  sofa  and  was  holding  and 
patting  Polly's  hand.  Neither  of  them  spoke. 
Grandma  was  looking  very  sober.  They  sat  thus 
several  minutes  when  Tom  came  with  a  picture, 
"  Here,  Polly  Maria,  I  want  you  to  have  this, 
just  to  know  and  remember  how  sorry  I  am  that 
I  made  you  feel  so  badly." 

It  was  a  photograph  of  the  angels  singing  to 
the  shepherds  on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem,  and 
Polly  had  once  said  it  was  the  loveliest  picture 
in  the  house. 

"  O,  no,  Tom.     Take  it  right  back,  please, 


96  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

where  it  belongs,  in  your  room;  it  ought  to  be 
there.  I  won't  care  ever  again  what  you  call 
me.  I've  just  been  thinking  it  out;  and  names 
don't  really  make  you  so,  you  know,  "  she  man 
aged  to  say  with  a  laugh,  though  tears  were 
falling  fast. 

"  You  are  nervous,  dear  child,"  said  grandma, 
"  because  you  are  not  strong  yet." 

Harold  came  in  slowly  and  Tom  hastened  to 
set  the  chair  he  usually  occupied  nearer  to  Polly 
and  grandmother,  and  then  went  on  striding  up 
and  down  the  room  as  he  had  since  coming  in. 

"What  has  Polly  been  thinking  out?"  asked 
Harold ;  "  one  of  the  funny  stories  she  used  to 
tell  us  last  winter?" 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  quickly 
replied. 

"  Let's  have  one  of  those  stories,"  said  Tom, 
throwing  himself  on  the  carpet  at  Polly's  feet, 
"You  begin,  just  as  you  always  do.  Tad  is 
smart  at  it,  but  yours  are  best." 

"  Can't  get  just  the  right  start,  I'm  afraid," 
she  said  with  a  clear,  bright  laugh,  for  she  was 
pleased  at  Tom's  compliment. 

"  No  matter,  give  us  it,  whatever  it  is,"  said 
Harold.  "  Perhaps  the  next  thought  will  make 
it  right." 

"  Well ;  only  don't  look  at  me  till  after  a  min 
ute  or  two ;  and  then  help  me  all  you  can,  every 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  97 

one,"  was  the  response  with  a  coquettish  toss  of 
her  curls. 

"  Oh,  dear !  well !  "  A  deep  heavy  sigh,  and 
then,  "  Down  in  a  green  meadow  all  among  the 
ferns  and  the  rocks,  a  nice  little  famiy  had  a 
pretty  home.  Six  brothers  and  ten  sisters, 
lived  there,  and  a  grandmother  and  an  uncle. 
Now,  Tom,  it's  your  turn." 

"  So  many  sisters !  I  can't  tell  what  to  Bay 
about  all  those  girls." 

"  Easy  enough,  if  you  think,"  chuckled  Polly. 
"  Come,  hurry  up,  Tom,  I'm  ready  to  tell  about 
the  brothers." 

A  confused  sound  of  hurrying  feet  and  merry 
voices  in  the  hall  turned  all  eyes  in  that  direc 
tion. 

Tad,  with  3  bob  of  his  red  head  and  a  hasty 
thrust  of  his  hand  through  his  sparse  locks 
came  forward,  saying  to  a  tall  lady  following, 
"  Here  she  is."  Then,  turning  to  Polly,  "  Miss 
Maria  Murderit  wants  to  know  you,  Pollywog." 

Polly  rose  and  greeted  the  lady  politely.  "  I 
believe  I  must  welcome  you,  too,"  said  grand 
mother,  shaking  the  lady's  hand  cordially. 

On  the  lady's  entrance,  Tom  had  scrambled  to 
his  feet,  with  difficulty  repressing  a  laugh  at 
Tad's  queer  introduction,  he  offered  her  a  chair. 
"  Miss  Mordaunt,  our  neighbor,  I  think,"  he 
said. 


98  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  I  thought  Taddie  made  a  mistake,"  said 
Polly.  "  I  hope  you'll  excuse  him.  He  don't 
know  much  about  words  yet." 

Tad  colored  to  the  roots  of  his  carroty  locks, 
and  stammered  an  instant,  then,  with  a  great 
effort,  commanded  his  voice  and  spoke  the  word 
properly — "Mordaunt — it's  a  very  hard  word, 
please  excuse  me." 

"  Of  course,"  she  replied,  "  We  are  neighbors, 
and  I  should  like  to  set  aside  all  formality, — sup 
pose  you  call  me  only,  Maria?" 

"  Formality,  another  hard  word,"  thought  the 
perplexed  boy.  He  groaned  inwardly  over  his 
ignorance  and  determined  to  begin  definitions 
"  right  off,"  for  Polly  was  so  radiant  he  felt  sure 
that  she  knew  what  Miss  Murderit  (that  in  his 
mind  was  still  her  name)  meant. 

"  I  hadn't  expected  to  see  you,"  continued 
Miss  Mordaunt  looking  very  kindly  on  Polly. 
"  I  suppose  you  are  delighted  to  be  with  the 
family  again." 

Polly  only  smiled,  she  was  thinking  what 
lovely  eyes  and  nose  and  what  beautiful  dimples 
Miss  Mordaunt  had. 

Grandmother  answered  for  her.  "  I  am  afraid 
she  is  so  happy  she  is  too  eager  to  do  just  as  she 
did  before  the  accident;  she  is  very  impulsive." 
"  Then  she  should  try  to  interest  herself  in  quiet 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  99 

occupations.  I  have  had  to  do  so  for  several 
years,"  said  Miss  Mordaunt. 

Edith,  who  had  slipped  out  at  the  sound  of 
a  strange  voice,  made  her  appearance  at  the  side 
door,  and  Susan,  with  Maud,  who  was  strug 
gling  to  get  from  her  arms  for  a  romp  with  Dun, 
frisking  around  the  boys'  heels. 

Miss  Mordaumt  saw  the  group.  "  What  a 
large  family  you  are,"  she  said.  "  My  sister, 
Mrs.  Sinclair,  and  myself  have  lived  a  lonely, 
humdrum  life  so  long,  it  is  good  to  hear  so  many 
voices  and  so  much  good-natured  stir  around 
us."  Then  she  talked  with  Harold  and  had  a 
few  merry  words  for  Duncan,  till  Maud,  com 
pletely  captivated,  rushed  from  Susan,  begging 
to  be  taken  into  her  lap.  Grandmother  remon 
strated,  but  Miss  Mordaunt  couldn't  refuse;  so 
with  her  she  had  a  childish  chatter  about  "  papa 
and  mama  gone  a  long  way  off  to  a  sick  auntie." 

This  led  to  inquiries  about  aunt  Maria,  in 
Denver,  and  the  visitor  had  a  good  deal  to  tell 
about  her,  in  'their  school  days,  when  they  were 
close  friends.  There  had  been  coolness  between 
them  of  late  years,  springing  from  indifference 
of  Henry  and  his  wife  toward  matters  concern 
ing  the  Hamiltons,  matters  once  of  importance, 
now  of  no  consequence. 

"  You  refer,  perhaps,"  said  grandmother  Mar- 
ston,  to  the  unplesant,  sensational  accounts  of 


ioo  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

doings  and  sights  at  Pleasant  Hill.  No, — "  Not 
that  exactly.  Of  course  my  sister  and  I  know, 
from  our  early  acquaintance  with  Maria,  that 
Mr.  Philip  Marston  is  too  high-minded  to  be  an 
noyed  by  such  things;  and  we  are  delighted  to 
have  him  here ;  and  all  of  the  family,  Mrs.  Mar 
ston  (one  of  the  Thorndikes)  being  certainly  a 
great  addition  to  our  social  circle ;  and  I  think  I 
can  promise  you  all  pleasant  acquaintance  with 
the  best  people  of  Pippoton.  But  Pippoton  is 
not  what  it  was  once,  (and  it  never  can  be  again) 
in  the  time  of  Squire  Hamilton.  To  me  the  sad 
dest  thought  of  the  place,  is  that  the  dreadful 
catastrophe  which  led  to  this  state  of  things 
might  have  been  averted.  Yes,  and  by  my  own 
brother."  She  seemed  oppressed  by  great  sorrow 
and  lapsed  into  silence. 

"  Please,  Miss  Maria,"  said  Polly,  (the  silence 
being  oppressive  at  last)  "will  you  let  me  see 
some  of  the  pictures  that  Oldie  has  seen?" 

"  Certainly.  If  you  are  well  enough,  come  to 
my  studio  any  time." 

"  I  guess,"  said  Tad,  "  she  would  like  to  learn 
how  to  make  them." 

"  Thaddeus ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  in  mock  se 
verity.  Poor  Tad,  with  another  of  his  painful 
blushes,  subsided  instantly.  Duncan,  as  if 
aware  that  his  friend  was  in  disgrace,  jumped  to 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.          ,  101 

his  knee  and  with  a  squeak  of  sympathy,  began 
to  lick  his  face. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  have  your  dog's  pic 
ture  painted?  "  asked  Miss  Mordaunt. 

"  Oh,  awfully  much.  Can  you?  Will  you? 
but — "  He  tried  hard  not  to  stammer,  and  felt 
nervously  in  his  pocket.  Drawing  forth  an  old 
wallet,  he  counted  out  its  contents  on  a  small 
stand  near,  then  touched  Miss  Mordaunt' s  sleeve, 
to  attract  her  attention,  and  asked  if  the  picture 
would  cost  much,  he  was  afraid  he  couldn't  pay 
her  for  a  good  many  weeks, 

"  We  won't  talk  about  the  price  yet,"  she  re 
plied  smiling.  I  shall  want  several  sittings; 
and,  Taddie,  I  shall  want  you;  you  must  be  in 
the  sittings,  and  in  the  picture,  also,  I  think. 
Shall  we  begin  to-morrow  after  school?"  He 
readily  assented. 

"  Please  may  I  come,  too?  "  asked  Polly. 

"  What  does  your  grandmother  say?  " 

Grandmother  did  not  object,  only  stipulated 
that  the  sittings  shouldn't  exceed  half  an  hour. 
And  then  the  guest  left. 

"  Pollywog,"  said  Tad,  as  Tom  politely  accom 
panied  Miss  Mordaunt  down  the  front  entrance 
and  Roland  and  Robert  went  to  the  window  to 
look  after  them,  "you  know  most  about  words. 
What  did  Miss  Maria  mean  about  sitting? 
What  is  it  that  I  must  be  in?  " 


102  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Oh — why — you  must  sit, — that's  all." 

"  Sit?    How?    How  do  you  do  it?  " 

"  Oh !  you'll  find  out  when  you  get  there,"  said 
Roland. 

"  That's  what  Mr.  Goodwin  told  me  when  I 
asked  him  how  to  make  a  snare." 

"  Roland  means  that  it  is  better  to  be  ob 
serving  and  try  to  find  out  things  by  looking 
and  watching  patiently  than  to  trouble  people 
by  a  great  many  questions,"  said  Harold. 

"  Come  here,  Taddie  boy,"  said  grandmother 
softly. 

He  came  immediately.  She  passed  an  arm 
around  'him  and  kissed  him  tenderly.  "  We  are 
all  pleased,  dear,  to  see  how  much  you  are  trying 
to  learn  toow  to  behave  and  to  do  things  prop 
erly.  But  we  sometimes  think  you  wish  to  find 
out  too  quickly  and  too  easily.  This  makes  you 
hasty  in  several  ways.  For  one,  in  speaking,  I 
know  you  would  like  to  be  able  to  speak  at  all 
times  without  stammering,  wouldn't  you?  " 

Tad  assented  with  a  funny  little  nod,  and  be 
gan  to  smooth  the  silver  hair  that  lay  in  straight 
folds  parted  neatly  on  her  forehead. 

"Yes?  I  thought  so.  Well,  now,  whenever 
you  begin  to  speak  quickly  just  stop;  wait  pa 
tiently  a  moment,  no  matter  if  some  one  else 
speaks  before  you  can  get  the  chance,  then,  speak 
very  slowly.  After  doing  in  this  way  for  several 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  103 

days,  you  will  find  that  waiting  in  that  manner 
will  not  be  so  disagreeable  as  at  first,  and  grad 
ually,  you  will  get  cured  of  the  stammer." 

"  I — I — I  "  began  Tad.  Grandmother  raised 
a  warning  finger,  and  he  waited ;  the  hand  that 
had  smoothed  the  silver  hair  he  laid  upon  his 
lips  for  a  moment.  "  Grandma,"  he  said  at  last, 
very  deliberately.  "  Don't  you  think  we  can 
have  a  happy  home  if  papa  and  mama  are 
away?" 

"  O  yes,"  she  replied.    "  Why  shouldn't  we?  " 

"  Well,  Darley  read  in  a  paper,  when  he  was 
in  the  house  at  noon,  what  somebody  had 
printed."  He  was  beginning  to  hurry.  His 
grandmother  checked  him  with  a  raised  finger. 

"  Had  printed,"  he  resumed,  slowly,  "  that 
where  there  are  children  and  a  garden  and  a 
grandmother,  there  is  a  happy  home.  And 
we've  got  them,  and  I  told  Darley  so,  and  he 
said  there  must  be  a  papa  and  mama." 

"  Darley  is  right,  my  dear,  and  of  course  we 
will  make  those  printed  words  right  too.  "  Now 
one  word  about  asking  troublesome  questions, 
and  then  I  must  go  to  my  room,  and  Harold 
must  do  the  same.  I'm  glad  you  wish  to  know 
what  things  are,  and  why  they  are.  But  it  is 
best  to  try  to  discover  by  looking  and  observing 
patiently,  till  it  is  impossible  to  find  out  without 


104  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

help,  before  you  make  yourself  disagreeable  by 
questioning  others." 

"  Reading  and  studying  and  remembering, 
you  don't  need  to  ask  so  many  questions,  do 
you?  "  said  Polly. 

"  I  mean  to  study  definitions  soon,"  said  Tad, 
"  and  then  I  shan't  have  to  ask  questions." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  105 


CHAPTER   VII. 

FINDING  OUT  FOR  HIMSELF. 

HAROLD,  much  against  his  grandmother's  ad 
vice,  remained  in  the  library  till  Darley  returned 
from  Hillsford.  He  wished  to  feel  assured  that 
his  father  and  mother  were  thus  far  on  their 
journey  without  accident. 

The  full  moon  had  risen,  tand  Harold  had  en 
joyed  sitting  in  its  light  and  talking  quietly  with 
Tom  about  his  studies.  He  had  not  been  so  free 
from  pain  for  weeks,  and  his  cough  was  less 
frequent  and  easier  since  coming  to  Pleasant 
Hill.  He  began  to  think,  as  he  had  said  to  Wal 
ter  Dinsmore,  that  in  the  summer,  perhaps  in  a 
month  hence,  he  could  resume  his  studies. 

"  I  wonder  where  papa  and  mama  are  at  this 
moment,"  said  Harold  rising,  "and  what  they 
are  thinking  about." 

"  Thinking  about  us,"  rejoined  Edith,  "  where- 
ever  they  are.  I  heard  grandmother  tell  them 
to  leave  all  their  cares  behind.  Papa  said  he'd 


106  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

try,  but  mama  said  it  would  be  impossible. 
Now,  come,  let  me  help  you,"  and  she  took  his 
spruce  pillow. 

"  Hold  on,"  cried  Tom.  "  I'm  the  man  of  the 
house,  had  my  commission  from  the  governor. 
Please  let  me  take  the  pillow,  and  you  go  and 
give  Lottie  orders  for  a  tiptop  breakfast.  Just 
suggest  oyster  fritters  and  scrambled  eggs  and 
breaded  cutlets  and  corn  muffins  and  a  sally- 
lunn.  'When  the  cat's  away/  you  know." 

"  O  Tom !  what  a  harum  scarum  fellow  you 
are,"  said  Harold,  with  a  faint  attempt  at  a 
laugh  that  ended  in  a  cough. 

"  O  dear !  "  said  Edith,  "  your  cough  is  worse, 
I'm  afraid  you've  taken  cold.  Be  sure  you  give 
him  his  medicine,  Thomas." 

He  had  taken  cold  and  over-estimated  his 
strength.  He  passed  a  very  uncomfortable  night 
in  consequence ;  and  by  his  grandmother's  direc 
tions  kept  his  room  the  next  day,  much  to  his 
disappointment,  for  Robert  and  Roland  brought 
in  a  boquet  of  jonquils  and  lilies  of  the  valley 
from  the  garden.  And  he  was  eager  to  go  as 
they  wished,  with  their  grandmother  to  see  how 
fine  the  tulips  looked,  and  how  well  the  early 
peas  and  radishes  were  coming  on.  They  were 
pleased  at  the  result  of  their  work  in  clearing 
weeds  and  rank  grass  from  the  flower  beds,  and 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  107 

in  regulating  the  appearance  of  the  garden  gen 
erally. 

"  I  think,  boys,"  said  grandmother,  "  I'll  con 
tent  myself  with  a  look  from  the  dining-room 
window  till  Harold  can  go.  You  just  point  out 
things  so  that  I  may  get  a  foretaste  of  what  I'm 
to  expect  when  we  can  both  see  the  garden 
nearer." 

"  Oh !  but  I  do  so  want  Oldie  to  know  for  him 
self  how  well  his  lily  of  the  valley  grows  there, 
the  one  Mrs.  Dinsmore  gave  him,  you  know,"  she 
added. 

"  Perhaps  you'll  think  it  a  notion,  and  a  queer 
one  too,"  said  Roland,"  but  that  lily  acted  as  if 
it  was  glad  to  get  with  its  relations,  it  went 
right  to  work  to  bloom  as  soon  as  we  set  it  with 
the  others.  Do  you  suppose  flowers  feel,  and 
think,  and  have  instinct?  " 

"  I  can't  say,  dear,  that  I  suppose  they  have 
those  faculties,  though  some  botanists  have  dis 
covered  movements  in  certain  species  of  plants 
that  indicate  properties  that  may  be  considered 
instinct, 

"  I  should  like  to  discover — to  discover  some 
thing,"  said  Robert,  "  like  Columbus,  or  Frank 
lin,  or  Stanley." 

"Just  remember,  boys,  all  of  you,  that  no 
man  is  really  a  discoverer.  The  proper  meaning 
of  the  word  is  a  revealing,  a  discovery  to  him 


io8  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

— an  uncovering,  we  will  say,  'by  the  Great 
Power  who  makes  and  governs  all  things." 

"And  only  think,  grandma,  how  long  things 
have  to  wait  till  God  lets  them  be  discovered," 
said  Roland. 

"And  how  many  good  and  lovely  things  He 
keeps  making,  that  people  don't  know  anything 
about  for  years  and  years,"  added  Robert, 
eagerly ; "  just  as  the  coal,  and  the  gold  mines, 
and  electric  power — and, — balloons/' 

"  And  God  gives  us  so  much  that  we  are  not 
thankful  for  as  we  ought  to  be,  that  we  seldom 
notice,"  she  returned. 

"  What  we  might  see  in  the  blades  of  grass, 
and  in  the  gravel  of  the  road,"  said  Harold; 
"  how  wonderful  they  are  when  you  examine 
them,  and  think  what  changes  they  have  passed 
through,  and  what  good  thy  are  doing,  and  how, 
in  their  way,  they  are  working  to  benefit  us." 

"  There's  that  wild  iris  Taddie  set  out  for  you, 
Oldie,  growing  all  right  under  the  currant 
bushes,  said  Roland.  And  we  want  you  to  come 
out  and  fix  a  place  for  other  wild  things — there 
are  lots  of  them  in  the  pasture." 

"  Some  day,  when  I  feel  well  enough,  I  must 
go  there,"  said  Harold.  "And  down  to  the 
pond  under  the  willows." 

"There'll  be  lilies,  lovely  white  lilies,  in  that 
pond  by  and  by,  Darley  says,"  remarked  Rol- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  109 

and.  "  You  ought  to  hear  Brown  tell  about 
the  funny  little  fish  in  that  pond,"  said  Robert, 
"  I  mean  to  buy  a  fishing  pole  and  line,  as  soon 
as  I  get  money  enough,  and  catch  some  of  those 
fish." 

"  Don't — don't  think,  Bertie,  of  doing  that," 
said  grandmother,  "  without  your  father's  per 
mission,  that  is  very  different  from  gathering 
wild  flowers.  Now  run  along  and  save  Edith 
the  trouble  of  getting  Taddie  ready  for  school, 
and  then  take  him  there  with  yourselves." 

Taddie  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Neither  Edith 
nor  Lottie  had  "  laid  eyes  on  him,"  they  said, 
since  breakfast.  Susan  was  appealed  to: — he 
had  brought  a  robin's  nest  with  three  blue  eggs 
in  it  to  the  nursery  a  half  hour  ago  and  Polly 
had  persuaded  him  to  carry  it  back  to  the  larch- 
tree  from  which  he  had  taken  it.  That  was  the 
last  she  knew  of  him.  Polly,  still  in  the  nur 
sery,  guessed  he  had  gone  with  Dun  to  sit  for 
his  picture.  He  had  combed  and  brushed  Dun's 
shaggy  coat,  to  make  him  look  nice  for  Miss 
Maria  to  see,  she  knew. 

A  breathless  race  to  the  old  house  down  the 
road  and  a  hasty  inquiry  there  without  result, 
then  the  two  other  boys,  feeling  they  had  no 
time  to  lose,  went  to  the  barn  and  screamed  his 
name  several  times  but  only  an  echo  answered. 
In  desperation  they  dashed  to  the  grove,  sup- 


I  io  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

posing  he  had  gone  to  find  insects  or  wild  flowers 
for  Miss  Leonard.  He  was  not  there,  nor  in  the 
orchard.  Thinking  he  must  have  already  started 
for  school,  they  betook  themselves  thither. 
Hearing  nothing  from  them,  Edith  came  to  the 
same  conclusion,  and,  quite  at  ease,  busied  her 
self  in  household  concerns. 

Lunch  time  came,  but  not  Taddie.  Roland 
and  Robert  had  seen  nothing  of  him.  Robert 
had  once  heard  him  say  he  meant  to  go  with 
Duncan  to  Harry  Dunn  to  show  off  the  tricks 
Dun  had  learned.  Naturally  he  would  go  for 
him  when  his  class  was  dismissed,  and  perhaps 
he  had  been  invited  to  luncheon. 

This  seemed  unlike  Tad's  usual  management; 
but  as  Dun  also  was  absent  Edith  felt  it  might 
be  so,  and  had  no  anxiety.  Grandmother  and 
Harold,  to  whom  she  mentioned  his  absence, 
thought  it  very  strange,  and  waited  impatiently 
for  five  o'clock,  when  he  ought  to  be  home  from 
the  afternoon  session.  He  did  not  come.  Robert 
and  Roland,  filled  with  apprehension,  came  fly 
ing  along  the  road  at  that  time;  in  their  alarm 
rushing  all  over  the  premises  and  questioning 
Darley  and  Browne  before  going  into  the  house. 
Darley  was  getting  ready  to  start  for  Hillsford, 
to  get  Tom  from  school  there.  Edith's  brain 
was  in  a  whirl  as  she  tried  to  think  of  some 
reasonable  excuse  for  the  boy's  absence.  She 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  in 

dreaded  to  add  to  Harold's  and  grandmother's 
anxiety,  and  her  own  was  now  very  distressing. 
Polly  fortunately,  was  so  absorbed  in  making  a 
new  dress  for  Maud's  Dinah,  she  had  no  thought 
for  anything  else. 

"  Could  he  have  wandered  over  the  meadow 
in  the  morning  and  fallen  into  the  ditch?  "  sug 
gested  Robert,  with  a  vivid  recollection  of  his 
own  misadventure  there. 

"  Or  gone  to  the  pond,  or  to  the  river,"  added 
Roland. 

Almost  frantic,  she  begged  them  to  stop  their 
conjectures.  She  could  not  listen  to  such  har 
rowing  ideas,  she  said. 

"Has  any  one  been  to  the  garret?"  asked 
Bert.  Edith  shook  her  head.  "  Let's  go,"  she 
sobbed.  "  Perhaps  he's  there,  has  met  with  an 
accident." 

The  boys  hurried,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  life 
and  death,  through  the  hall  and  around  to  the 
attic  stairs. 

Edith,  regretting  what  she  had  said  almost  as 
soon  as  uttered,  called  after  them  that  it  was 
nonsense  to  suppose  he  was  there,  or  anywhere 
else  in  the  house.  If  he  were  in  trouble,  Dun 
surely,  would  have  aroused  the  whole  house 
hold  long  before  now,  for  he  was  ready,  as  they 
knew,  to  bark  at  the  least  provocation. 

In  their  eagerness  they  tore  up  the  stairs, 


H2  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

reached  the  garret  door,  cast  a  hasty  glance 
about,  called  his  name  several  times.  All  was 
silence.  Everything  looked  as  usual.  They 
were  satisfied  that  he  wasn't  there,  hadn't  been 
there.  Coming  down  as  noisily  as  they  had  gone 
up,  Harold  heard  them.  He  stepped  into  the 
hall  to  ask  the  meaning  of  so  much  commotion. 
Grandmother  followed  him  to  see  if  Tad  were 
with  them ;  "  Go  to  Miss  Mordaunt,"  she  said, 
"  she  may  be  able  to  suggest  something." 

Both  boys  seized  their  hats  and  raced  at  full 
speed  to  the  old  gray  house.  Edith,  still  sob 
bing,  leaned  a  moment  on  the  balusters  in  the 
hall.  At  that  moment,  Susan  opened  the  nur 
sery  door.  She  was  pale  and  trembling,  her 
eyes  as  big  as  saucers,  her  voice  husky  and 
weak;  Polly  and  Maud  clinging  to  her  skirts 
and  frightened  at  her  affright.  "  Oh,  Miss 
Edith!  Miss  Edith!  you  are  coming  up,  aren't 
you?  "  I  have  been  scared  half  out  of  my  wits. 
Such  dreadful  noises ! " 

"  Dreadful  noises?  where? "  asked  grand 
mother. 

"  Oh !  right  behind  my  closet — knocking — and 
everything  horrid,  every  once  in  a  while,  all  the 
afternoon." 

"  Why  haven't  you  told  of  it  before?  " 

"  Oh !  I  darsn't,"  groaned  the  agitated  girl, 
"  'cause,  'cause — the  hairnt,"  she  whispered. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  113 

"Edith,"  said  grandmother,  with  unusual 
sternness,  "  don't  give  way  so  to  your  feelings. 
Don't  mind  what  Susan  says,  come  with  me. 
We'll  see  what  this  noise  means — the  wind  at 
the  blinds  and  in  the  larches,  perhaps." 

"  No,  no,  ma'am,"  whimpered  Susan.  "  I've 
heard  all  about  it.  Something  dreadful's  going 
to  happen." 

"  Mrs.  Sinclair  wasn't  at  home,"  Bert  shouted, 
"  didn't  have  to  go  to  the  house."  Out  of  breath 
from  his  speed,  he  gave  way  to  Roland.  "We 
met  Miss  Maria  on  her  way  to  the  sewing  circle ; 
she  said  she'd  come  right  up  and  talk  with 
Edith — she  couldn't  walk  as  fast  as  we  did." 

Edith  went  down  stairs  to  receive  her,  and  as 
Harold  was  ready  to  tell  her  about  their  excite 
ment,  she  listened  quietly  while  he  talked.  Miss 
Mordaunt  expressed  sympathy,  but  could  think 
of  nothing  to  relieve  her  anxiety.  She  herself 
was  much  shocked  by  the  occurrence,  supposing 
after  the  inquiry  of  the  morning  that  the 
brothers  had  found  him  at  school.  Grandmother 
Marston  spoke  from  the  head  of  the  stairs,  re 
questing  Miss  Maria  to  come  up  and  hear  the 
sounds  that  had  frightened  Susan.  "  I  suppose 
you  know  something  about  the  silly  rumpus  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  can  say  something  to 
quiet  Susan's  talk,  and,  if  posible,  calm  this 


H4  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

nervous  girl.  We'll  think  about  Taddie  after 
she's  quieted." 

Hand  in  hand,  Edith  and  Miss  Maria  went  up 
immediately.  "  O,  yes,  indeed ! "  said  Miss 
Maria.  "  I  know  all  about  these  rooms,  have 
been  all  over  the  house  a  great  many  times. 
Where  are  the  sounds?  "  She  looked  at  Susan 
for  reply. 

"  Haven't  heard  them  so  loud  lately,  There, 
hark!  don't  you  hear  that?  "  Susan  replied. 

It  was  a  faint  noise,  as  of  a  distant  knock. 

"  Let  me  see,  I  remember  about  this  door,"  re 
joined  Miss  Mordaunt,  entering  the  closet  and 
opening  the  door.  Edith  was  behind  her.  "  It 
is  so  dark  we  must  have  a  lamp,"  she  said. 

Susan  hastily  lighted  hers  and  Edith  took  it. 
By  this  time  the  knocks  seemed  nearer.  "  What 
can  it  be? "  she  whispered,  almost  as  much 
frightned  as  Susan  had  been. 

"  We'll  soon  see,"  said  Miss  Mordaunt,  open 
ing  one  of  the  two  inner  doors.  A  strong  smell 
of  ether  escaped  as  the  door  was  opened  wide. 
"  Be  careful,"  she  added,  "a  staircase;  we  will 
go  down." 

Edith  followed  timidly,  raising  the  lamp 
above  her  head  to  light  Miss  Mordaunt's  way. 

"  Look  out  for  yourself,"  came  her  next  ad 
vice,  "  they  are  quite  steep,  but  I  know  how  to 
take  them." 


A  small  figure  tottered  out  of  the  dimness  to  meet  them. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  115 

They  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs  in  safety. 
"  Now  this  passage  way;  you  see  it  isn't  so  dark 
here.  We  are  getting  toward  the  doctor's  office. 

"Doctor's  office?"  thought  Edith;  she  had 
never  heard  of  that.  But  she  said  nothing. 

"  This  ether  must  have  been  upset,  judging 
by  the  odor.  Strange,  very  strange,  that  Squire 
Hamilton  didn't  make  an  end  of  the  doctor's 
belongings  before  he  went  away." 

Now  came  a  weak,  but  joyful  cry !  and  a  figure, 
a  small  figure,  black  as  a  chimney  sweep  tottered 
out  from  the  dimness  to  meet  them.  "  Oh,  oh ! 
I — I — I  guess  I  won't  die !  I — I'm  so  glad,"  the 
figure  said  in  Taddie's  well-known  stammer. 
And  then  Duncan's  bark  told  them  of  his  de 
light. 

Taddie,  for  a  long  time  had  thought  it  was 
girlish  and  babyish  to  kiss  or  to  be  kissed.  But 
he  forgot  his  objection  in  this  happy  moment, 
and  almost  strangled  Edith  with  the  hug  and 
the  kisses  he  gave  her.  Then  turning  to  the 
lady  said,  "O — O,  Miss  Murderit!  you  are  most 
too  lovely  for  anything.  May  I  kiss  you  too?" 

"  Yes,  indeed ! "  she  exclaimed,  though  she 
had  on  her  best  lace  collar,  and  she  saw  how 
black  and  smutty  he  was,  "  You  must  have  had 
a  sad  time,  poor  child;  and  you've  been  in  the 
burnt  room,  too.  Haven't  you?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  room®  they  are. 


n6  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

And  I  guess  I  went  to  sleep  and  slept  a  good 
while  after  Dunnie  knocked  down  that  big  bottle 
and  it  broke  and  smelt  so  funny.  I  didn't  know 
where  I  was  when  I  woke  up.  And  Dunny 
whined  and  licked  my  face.  And  then  I  couldn't 
find  my  way  out.  And  I  knocked  and  knocked, 
and  hoped  somebody  would  hear  me.  They 
didn't,  I  suppose,  so  I  hollered  and  hollered  till 
I  couldn't  any  more.  And,  oh,  I've  cried  most 
a  gallon,  I  guess.  And  I  knocked  and  knocked." 

"  Poor  dear,"  said  Edith,  "  we  hadn't  the  least 
thought  of  these  rooms,  or  of  you  in  them." 

"  I  cried  'cause  I  was  so  hungry,  ever  so  hun 
gry,  and  nobody  came  to  help  me  out.  I  thought 
I  should  starve  here  and  die,  and  Dunnie  too. 
But  one  time  I  thought  about  God  and  asked 
Him  to  let  papa  know  how  sorry  I  was  that  I 
came  in  here,  and  I  hoped  he'd  forgive  me.  And 
if  He  thought  I'd  better  die,  hoped  He'd  for 
give  all  my  sins  and  let  me  have  a  little  cubby 
hole  place  up  in  Heaven,  if  He  couldn't  let  me 
live  in  the  beautiful  mansions,  and  go  about  the 
lovely  gardens  and  handsome  streets  there, 
where  I  could  see  the  other  people  who  could 
be  so  happy  as  to  be  in  them.  And  I  would 
never  forget  that  it  was  because  I  was  so 
naughty  as  to  come  in  here  without  permission 
and  had  to  die  for  it."  Before  he  had  finished, 
his  voice  was  very  weak  and  plaintive. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  117 

"  You  poor,  darling  child,"  said  Miss  Mor- 
daunt,  "  how  you  have  suffered." 

"  Let  us  get  away  from  this  horrid  place  and 
this  disagreeable  atmosphere,"  said  Edith. 
"  How  did  you  come  in,  Taddie?  " 

"  Came  in  that  door  behind  the  larches. 
Never  saw  it  till  this  morning.  Wanted  to 
know  what  it  was  for;  and  grandma  said  yes 
terday  you  mustn't  trouble  people  with  asking 
about  things  till  you  have  tried  to  find  out  your 
self.  The  door  comes  open  easy  enough,  if  you 
push  it  hard.  And  Dunnie  and  I  tried  to  find 
out  for  ourselves.  There  are  lots  of  funny 
things  and  bottles  and  boxes  of  medicine  in  one 
room.  Dunnie  broke  a  big  bottle,  it  fell  and 
broke  and  spilt,  that's  what  smells  so  here." 

They  were  passing  toward  the  stairway. 
"  This  isn't  the  way  I  came,"  he  said. 

"  No  matter ;  we'll  go  out  this  way,"  said 
Edith.  They  were  soon  in  the  nursery,  where  all 
the  household,  even  Tom,  who  had  arrived,  and 
had  been  told  of  Tads  disappearance  and  the 
strange  noises,  were  anxiously  waiting;  not  ex 
pecting  the  explorers  would  /bring  Tad  with 
them,  however. 

One  tremendous  cheer  from  Tom  and  the 
other  two  boys  greeted  them,  then  shouts  and 
laughter  at  their  besmirched  faces  and  dresses, 
to  say  nothing  of  Duncan's  and  Tad's  blackness. 


n8  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Enough  to  raise  the  roof,"  grandmother  said, 
and  Harold's  wasn't  the  faintest  laugh,  either. 

"It  is  worth  a  good  deal  of  worry  to  hear  you 
laugh  so  naturally,"  said  grandmother  Marston, 
patting  Harold's  shoulder.  But  Taddie,  boy,  tell 
us  what  you  mean  by  giving  us  such  a  fright  and 
getting  into  such  a  disgusting  mess.  Have  you 
been  up  the  chimney,  you  and  Dun?" 

"  Suppose  I  make  him  more  comfortable  and 
rather  more  tidy  first,"  said  Edith. 

"  Don't  be  long  about  it,"  she  returned.  "  We 
are  all  impatient  to  know  what  he  has  been 
through  to  be  found  in  such  a  plight." 

Miss  Mordaunt  begged  to  be  excused,  "  she 
ought  to  have  been  at  the  Society  meeting  before 
now,"  she  said.  Grandmother  thanked  her 
gratefully,  and  said  she  had  been  a  great  comfort 
by  the  courage  she  had  given  them  all. 

"  Please  come  into  my  room,  as  many  as  can," 
said  Harold,  we'll  have  Taddie's  story  there.  I 
can  see  Lottie  peeping  up  the  staircase,  she 
wants  to  hear  it,  too,  I  suppose."  He  went 
slowly  through  the  hall. 

"  It's  a  wise  suggestion,"  said  his  grand 
mother,  "you  are  tired."  I'm  afraid  the  day's 
excitement  is  too  much  for  you.  "  Lottie,"  she 
continued  looking  over  the  balusters,  "dinner 
is  late,  of  course ;  but  we  aren't  ready  for  it  yet. 
If  you  can  leave,  come  up  to  Harold's  chamber 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  119 

soon,  and  hear  what  Thaddeus  has  to  say  about 
causing  us  all  so  much  trouble." 

All  but  Susan  and  Maud  followed  her.  Lottie 
was  on  her  way  to  Taddie's  room  with  apple 
turnovers  for  him,  supposing  he  must  be  hun 
gry.  He  devoured  two  turnovers  before  finish 
ing  his  bath  and  continued  eating  while  getting 
on  a  clean  suit  of  clothes.  Edith,  from  her  room, 
soon  called  that  she  was  ready  to  arrange  his 
collar  and  necktie.  Then  Taddie,  his  face  shin 
ing  and  rosy  from  his  vigorous  scrubbing  with 
soap  and  water,  his  red  hair,  fairly  rampant, 
from  the  same  sharp  discipline,  went  with  her 
to  make  his  statement  of  the  day's  misdoings. 

"  You  look  more  tidy  and  more  comfortable 
for  the  recess  you  have  taken,"  said  Tom. 
Now,  we'll  have  the  story  of  these  mysterious 
doors,  that  I  was  hoping  to  discover  some  day 
myself.  Doors  opening  into  dungeons  and  black 
holes,  were  they?" 

"  Come  and  sit  by  me,"  said  his  grandmother, 
"  and  be  sure,  Thaddeus,  to  speak  slowly.  You 
wish  to  cure  yourself  of  stammering,  you  know." 

She  extended  her  hand.  Taddie  took  it  in 
both  his  and  gave  it  a  little  squeeze.  "  Oh ! 
grandma,  it's  awful  nice,  you've  no  idea  how 
nice  it  is  to  be  with  you  and  everybody  again." 

"  You  won't  want  to  start  on  an  exploring  ex 
pedition  again,  I  suppose,"  said  Harold,  and 


120  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

then  there  was  a  chorus  from  all  the  others. 
"  Do  begin."  "  Hurry  up."  "  Tell  us  all  about 
it."  "How  did  you  get  in?"  and  Tad,  waving 
his  hand  merrily,  began :  "  when  I  carried  back 
that  robin's  nest,  I  fell  down,  right  back  of  the 
tree,  and  there  was  that  old  door!  Never 
thought  there  was  one  there,  and  couldn't  think 
what  it  was  there  for.  Then  I  remembered  what 
grandma  had  told  me  about  trying  to  find  out 
without  troubling  other  people.  And  I  just  gave 
that  old  door  a  try  and  a  push,  and  Dun  and  I 
were  right  in,  quick  as  a  wink.  I  hope  Lottie's 
got  him  clean  by  this  time,  she  said  she  would 
when  she  gave  me  the  turnovers." 

"  That  needn't  be  in  your  story,  Tad,"  said 
Tom.  "  Let  Dun  and  Lottie  slide  till  you  get 
through." 

"  I  can't  tell  without  Dun  in  it,  he  was  awful 
clever  all  the  time." 

"  Thaddeus  Thorndike  Marston,"  said  Harold, 
pretending  displeasure,"  how  many  times  has 
your  father  reproved  you  for  using  that  word 
awful  improperly." 

"  He  'proved  me  once,  'three  times  one  day, 
and  I  know  all  about  it,  Oldie  (he  was  speaking 
very  slowly)  but  when  I  try  to  talk  as  grandma 
tells  me,  I  can't  think  so  much  about  the  words, 
only  how  to  say  'em." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  121 

"  That  will  do,  children,"  said  grandma,  "  Go 
on,  Taddie,  in  your  own  way." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  stammer,  you  know,  and 
it's  going  to  take  so  long  p'haps  we'd  better  have 
dinner  first.  I'm  aw — no,  dreadful  hungry. 
Apple  turnovers  don't  make  your  stomach  feel 
very  well  when  you've  been  most  starved." 

"  Only  missed  your  lunch,"  said  Bert. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  being  shipwrecked 
and  nothing  to  eat  or  drink  for  three  days,  as 
Mr.  Goodwin  was  once,"  said  Roland,"  only  a 
little  rain  water  caught  in  their  hands." 

"Oh!  hum-m,  Taddie,"  sighed  Polly.  "Do 
make  haste.  I  want  my  dinner  too." 

"  Taddie  Marston,  just  tell  a  little,  and  then 
we'll  have  dinner,"  said  Edith. 

"  Only  what  I  told  you  and  Miss  Mur- 
derit " 

"  Miss  Maria,  please,"  broke  in  Polly. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  Tom.  "  Will  you  never  get 
started?" 

"Well,  yes.  Where  was  I?  Oh! — at  the  be 
ginning,"  Tad  said,  with  an  air  of  importance; 
and  then  went  on  to  relate  the  occurrence  of  the 
broken  bottle,  as  he  had  -to  Edith  and  Miss  Mor- 
daunt. 

"  If  Dun  hadn't  been  with  you  at  that  time,  I 
don't  know  what  the  consequence  would  have 


122  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

been,  much  worse  than  it  has  been  proved,"  was 
grandmother's  comment. 

"  But  I  didn't,  didn't  break  it.  It  broke  it 
self — fell  down  just  when  Dunnie  jumped  on 
the  bench  where  it  was." 

"  But  the  chimney  sweep  business,  what  was 
that?"  asked  Tom. 

"  Don't  know  anything  of  that  kind." 

"  Miss  Hordaunt  said  he  must  have  been  in 
the  burnt  room." 

"  Didn't  see  any  burnt  room.  That  one  next 
to  the  medicine  room  had  kind  of  circus  things, 
rings  and  hoops  and  wires  and  bars  and  steps. 
'Twas  aw — very  dark  in  there,  and  I  fell  down 
two  or  three  times,  trying  to  find  out  for  myself 
what  the  things  were.  And  Dunnie  got  caught 
in  a  wheel  there.  I  had  to  pull  him  out.  It  hurt 
him  and  he  cried  dreadfully,  and  I  cried.  And 
I  knocked  and  halloed  and  nobody  came.  That 
was  the  time  I  talked  to  God.  I  knew  He  must 
be  there,  because,  you  know,  He  is  everywhere. 
I  couldn't  think  of  a  prayer  that  would  be  just 
right.  So  I  only  talked  and  cried.  But  I  guess 
He  heard  me.  And  pretty  soon  I  saw  that  lamp, 
and  then  somebody  coming.  'Twas  Edith  and 
Miss — Miss  Maria.  That's  all.  Now,  can't  we 
have  dinner,  grandma?  " 

"Dinner  is  ready;  shall  we  go  down,  grand 
ma?  "  said  Edith. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  123 

"  I'm  proud  of  your  dog,"  said  Tom,  tweaking 
the  dog's  ear  as  he  hastened  toward  Taddie.  He 
was  the  means  of  saving  your  life,  I  suppose." 

"  Why,  how?  "  said  Tad,  in  amazement. 

"  By  rousing  you  from  what  you  thought  was 
sleep.  It  was  unconsciousness,  the  effects  of 
the  ether  spilt  from  the  bottle." 

"  I  own  part  of  him,  a  quarter,"  said  Polly, 
proudly,  "  and  I  mean  to  buy  him  a  pretty  collar, 
he  has  been  so  good  to  Taddie." 

"  Miss  Pauline  Maria,  you  must  recollect  that 
one  quarter  is  mine,"  added  Harold.  "  If  he 
has  a  collar,  I  must  be  consulted  about  it,  and 
I  shall  pay  my  part  of  it." 

"  And  have  engraved  on  it,  he  saved  Thaddeus 
Thorndike  Marston's  life,  same  as  on  medals, 
when  lives  have  been  saved,"  said  Polly. 

"  All  right,"  returned  Harold.  "  Now  we'll 
go  down  before  Tad  eats  all  the  dinner  up.  He's 
nearly  starved,  you  know." 


124  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MBS.  SINCLAIR'S  STORY. 

MRS.  SINCLAIR  made  an  early  call  at  Pleasant 
Hill  the  next  day.  Her  sister's  account  of  Tad- 
die's  disappearance  and  where  he  was  found,  im 
pressed  her  deeply.  It  was  evident  that  the 
family,  at  least  that  portion  of  it  now  at  home, 
had  no  knowledge  of  the  rooms  that  Edith  saw 
for  the  first  time  yesterday.  If  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Marston  were  not  aware  of  their  existence,  gome- 
body  was  culpable.  Why  Squire  Hamilton  had 
allowed  them  to  remain  so  many  years  with  their 
contents  unremoved,  was  a  mystery.  And  yet, 
considering  his  love  of  ease  and  his  negligent 
habits,  it  was  no  more  than  might  have  been  ex 
pected,  had  they  not  consisted  of  such  dangerous 
elements.  It  would  seem  that  no  high-minded, 
no  conscientious  person  could  have  allowed  the 
property  to  pass  out  of  his  hands  without  ac 
quainting  the  purchaser  with  the  locality  of 
those  rooms  and  the  nature  of  their  contents. 
Whatever  might  be  the  case,  looking  at  it  from 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  125 

her  point  of  view,  she  considered  it  her  duty  now 
to  put  these  new  neighbors  of  hers  on  their 
guard  against  exposing  themselves  to  those  dan 
gers. 

The  weather  was  mild  and  clear,  with  a  soft 
southwest  breeze  that  lightly  stirred  the  boughs 
of  the  tall  ailanthus  trees  bordering  the  drive 
way.  Harold  was  lying  in  his  hammock  on  the 
veranda;  grandmother  Marston  had  taken  her 
knitting  there,  and  on  the  lounge  beside  her 
were  Polly  and  Tad  and  the  puppy. 

Grandmother  saw  that  Tad  looked  pale  and 
complained  of  feeling  tired.  So  she  thought  best 
to  keep  him  at  home  from  school.  She  feared 
that  the  effects  of  the  ether  and  his  mental  dis 
tress  had  not  left  him;  and  rather  than  incur 
the  risk  of  a  fit  of  sickness,  was  willing  to  keep 
him  under  her  own  eye  for  this  one  day  longer, 
if  he  were  not  plainly  in  his  usual  health  and 
spirits.  Polly  was  delighted  to  have  his  com 
pany;  she  was  getting  lonely  in  the  absence  of 
her  mother,  and  longing  for  the  time  when  she 
should  be  told  that  she  had  fully  recovered  from 
her  accident. 

Mrs.  Sinclair,  like  her  sister,  was  fond  of 
children,  and  cheerful  and  lively  in  disposition. 
After  a  pleasant  greeting  to  grandmother  and 
Harold,  and  congratulations  on  Harold's  im 
proved  appearance,  she  said  to  Taddie.  "  Well, 


126  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

young  man,  how  did  you  like  your  ride  on  the 
wheel  of  flame  yesterday?  " 

Tad's  face  was  no  longer  pale.  If  every  drop 
of  blood  in  his  body  had  rushed  there,  it  couldn't 
have  had  a  deeper  glow.  He  felt  so  uncomfort 
able,  he  dropped  Dun  suddenly,  and  thrust  his 
hands  through  and  through  his  scanty  hair  till 
it  stood  out  like  bristles  before  he  could  answer 
her.  Yet,  nervous  as1  he  was,  he  remembered  to 
speak  slowly  and  to  command  his  voice : 

"  I  didn't  see  a  wheel  of  flame.  Was  it  that 
black  thing  Dunnie  got  caught  in  when  I  turned 
it  round  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  may  have  been  that.  Fortunate 
for  you  that  you  didn't  know  about  the  crank 
that  sets  it  flaming.  I  guess  you  won't  want  to 
turn  it  around  again,  anyway." 

"  No,"  rejoined  Tad,  very  demurely.  "  I  don't 
to  go  into  those  rooms  again." 

"  I  suppose  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Sinclair 
turning  to  grandmother  Marston,  "about  those 
rooms  in  the  balcony." 

"  My  son  once  mentioned  some  rooms  filled 
with  rubbish,  articles  that  once  belonged  to  the 
squire's  son ;  but  he  said  nothing  more,"  replied 
the  old  lady. 

"  Yes,  Richard  Hamilton  was  something  of  a 
chemist,  he  was  called  Doctor,  though  he  never 
had  a  diploma.  A  well  meaning  fellow,  but  too 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  127 

fond  of  experimenting  with  acids  and  alkalies; 
spent  dollars  and  dollars,  and  all  to  no  purpose, 
not  only  of  his  father's,  but  of  other  people's 
money,  and  at  last  in  one  of  his  experiments  set 
fire  to  his  room  and  came  near  burning  down 
the  house." 

"  Did  that  make  the  smut  that  blacked  Tad- 
die  and  Dun?"  asked  Polly. 

"  Perhaps — nobody  knows,  though ;  for  his 
father  was  so  angry  with  him,  he  was  never  seen 
after  that  fire — most  persons  think  he  lost  his 
life  in  the  explosion." 

Mrs.  Sinclair  then  enquired  when  Taddie  and 
his  dog  were  coming  to  sit  for  their  picture. 
After  a  little  talk  the  matter  was  left  for  Miss 
Mordaunt  to  fix  the  date,  making  a  few  en 
quiries  about  the  journey  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
ston  had  taken  so  suddenly,  saying  she  had  an 
errand  farther  down  the  village,  she  took  her 
leave. 

Grandmother  was  busy  with  thoughts  that 
Mrs.  Sinclair's  talk  had  suggested.  Taddie  had 
spoken  twice  unheeded.  At  last  with  a  deep 
sigh  he  said  quietly,  "  Grandma,  does  your 
knitting  trouble  you?  the  needles  click  dreadful 
loud.  Pr'aps  that's  the  reason  you  don't  hear 
me." 

"  What  did  you  say,  dear? "  she  returned, 
rousing  from  her  reverie. 


128  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Why !  I  just  asked  if  I  had  been  very  wicked 
in  going  into  that  room  yesterday,  it  made  so 
much  trouble  for  other  folks." 

"  Well,  I  believe  I  must  say  that  you  ought  to 
check  your  curiosity  a  little,  especially  when  it 
leads  you  to  open  a  door  that  you  know  nothing 
about" 

"  Oh !  hum !  I've  got  so  many  faults  I  don't 
know  when  I  shall  get  them  all  rid  of,"  he  said 
dolefully,  with  a  pitiful  pucker  of  his  red  lips, 
that  had  a  great  mind  to  let  another  sigh  es 
cape. 

Dunnie,  as  if  conscious  of  his  sorrow,  sprang 
to  his  knee  and  began  to  lick  his  face.  He  fond 
led  him  and  laid  his  cheek  against  the  dog's 
shaggy  head. 

"  Why,  Taddie  boy,  you  are  doing  very  well," 
said  his  grandmother.  "  Very  well,  indeed,  for 
such  a  little  fellow.  Don't  feel  bad  because  I 
give  you  so  many  don'ts  when  I  talk  with  you. 
You  are  doing  bravely  in  many  ways,  with  only 
a  few  days'  trying  you  are  getting  along  wonder 
fully  about  stammering.  But  I  want  you  to 
know  that  you  must  not  expect  to  understand 
why  older  persons  do  or  say  many  things.  Or 
why  a  great  many  matters  or  occasions  are  as 
they  are.  There  is  much,  very  much,  in  the 
world  that  I  would  like  to  know,  and  to  know 
the  reasons  for,  but  I  feel  that  I  never  can  know, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  129 

and  must  be  content  not  to  know.  All  that  God 
sees  fit  to  let  me  know,  He  will  provide  ways  to 
teach  me.  As  good  children,  we  must  submit  to 
His  rules,  and  trust  His  wisdom  and  His 
love." 


130  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

IN   DENVER. 

MRS.  MARSTON  had  never  cared  for  much  be 
yond  the  precincts  of  home.  This  was  her  little 
world ;  and  her  tastes,  her  ambitions,  her  aspira 
tions,  all,  found  ample  gratification  in  promot 
ing  the  welfare  of  her  family.  Hence  she  was 
no  traveller  and  the  journey  to  Denver  became 
tedious.  Before  the  third  day  had  passed,  she 
longed  impatiently  for  quiet  and  rest,  and  was 
rejoiced  to  hear,  at  nightfall,  that  in  less  than 
three  hours  they  would  be  in  Denver. 

After  the  first  hour,  Mr.  Marston  sat,  watch 
in  hand,  telling  the  quarters  as  they  elapsed. 
At  last,  putting  up  his  watch,  he  ejaculated 
cheerily,  "  Almost  there,"  and  began  to  collect 
their  hand-baggage.  After  some  difficulty  the 
cabman  found  Mrs.  Mordaunt's  home  and  rang 
the  door  bell  furiously.  The  peal  was  answered 
by  a  sleepy  looking  woman  in  a  night  cap  and  a 
shawl.  "Yes,  come  right  in,"  she  said.  "The 
poor  soul  has  been  looking  for  her  friends  all 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  131 

day.  Up  two  flights,  turn  to  the  right,  third 
door."  She  repeated  the  words  as  if  they  were 
a  formula  often  used. 

The  entry  was  dark  except  for  the  dim  light 
of  a  smoky  lamp  on  a  table  at  the  head  of  the 
first  flight  of  stairs.  Mr.  Marston  passed  up 
noiselessly,  but  the  rickety  stairs  responded  to 
every  step.  Before  they  had  reached  the  second 
staircase,  that  third  door  was  opened,  and  a  tall 
girl  came  out  with  a  bright  lamp,  so  that  they 
went  on  more  rapidly. 

"  This  is  Ruth,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Marston 
as  he  gained  the  upper  entry.  He  spoke  low,  but 
Mrs.  Mordaunt  heard  him,  and  recognized  his 
voice.  "  O  Philip,  Philip,"  she  said  querulously, 
"  You  have  come  at  last."  Mrs.  Marston  clasped 
the  girl's  hand  and  kissed  her  thin,  pale  cheek. 

It  was  a  low,  narrow,  cheerless-looking  room 
to  which  Ruth  conducted  them;  the  high  bed 
took  nearly  half  its  space;  another  smaller  one, 
a  crib,  a  table,  two  large  trunks  and  two  chairs 
filled  the  remainder.  But  for  the  lamp  held 
high  above  their  heads,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marston 
could  not  have  passed  to  Mrs.  Mordaunt's  bed 
side  without  danger  to  life  and  limb. 

"This  is  kind,  Philip,"  went  on  Mrs.  Mor 
daunt,  in  her  joy  flinging  her  arms  around  him 
and  weeping  and  moaning  like  a  grieved  child. 
"Mary,  too.  Let  me  be  sure  I  have  you  both 


132  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

here.  I  have  been  so  lonely."  Mrs.  Marston 
drew  near  and  caressed  the  poor,  forlorn  creat 
ure  tenderly. 

The  baby  in  its  crib  stirred,  coughed,  and 
wailed  pitifully.  Ruth  tried  to  soothe  it,  but  in 
vain.  She  took  it  in  her  arms  and  paced  what 
little  space  there  was  in  the  room. 

With  no  small  parade  of  noise  and  talk,  the 
hackman  brought  the  trunks  and  demanded 
where  'he  should  place  them.  There  was  no 
place  except  upon  the  other  two  trunks. 

"  You  see  how  we  have  to  live,  Philip,"  said 
Mrs.  Mordaunt.  "  I  don't  know  what  would  be 
come  of  baby  and  me  if  Ruth  wasn't  so  handy. 
Bring  Henry  here,  Ruth,  I'll  hush  him  while  you 
wait  upon  your  uncle  and  aunt." 

Ruth  did  as  she  was  bid,  and  the  baby's  cries 
were  soon  stilled.  Then  over  a  little  oil  stove 
she  set  tea  to  steeping,  and  from  a  closet  brought 
dishes  and  food.  Though  not  a  very  appetizing 
meal,  the  hungry  travellers  appreciatel  the  girl's 
efforts  and  made  the  best  of  it. 

"  I  have  borrowed  a  sleeping  room  for  you 
from  my  kind  neighbor,  Mrs.  Guntley,"  said  Mrs. 
Mordaunt.  "  I  suppose  you  will  wish  to  retire 
soon,  Mary.  I  shan't  sleep ;  I  can't  till  I've  had 
a  talk  with  Philip.  Ruth  has  had  so  little  sleep 
lately,  because  of  my  poor  head,  she  mustn't  sit 
up  much  longer." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  133 

"  I  will  sit  with  you,  Maria,"  said  Mr.  Mar- 
ston ;  "  but  not  one  word  about  your  troubles 
will  I  hear,  till  I,  too,  have  had  some  rest.  I 
am  glad  to  find  you  better  than  I  expected,  and 
I  shan't  allow  you  to  make  yourself  worse  by  too 
much  excitement.  Mary  ought  to  go  to  bed  im 
mediately;  she  has  borne  the  journey  bravely. 
But  I  can  see  it  has  been  very  hard  for  her." 

After  placing  the  baby  in  his  crib,  and  show 
ing  Mrs.  Marston  to  the  borrowed  room,  which 
was  just  opposite,  on  the  other  side  of  the  entry, 
Ruth  was  ready  to  go  to  her  night's  rest  in  the 
smaller  bed. 

Ruth  was  tall  for  thirteen  years;  thin,  angu 
lar,  and  slightly  stooping.  Her  features  were 
homely;  the  expression  of  her  large  eyes  sad, 
and  almost  sullen ;  her  mouth  wilful  and  selfish. 
She  had  a  quantity  of  dark  hair  that  hung  un 
tidily  about  her  small,  sallow  face,  and  her  faded 
cotton  dress  showed  careless  usage.  Notwith 
standing  her  unprepossessing  appearance,  Mrs. 
Marston  pitied  her,  and  determined  to  love  her. 

The  next  morning  Ruth  had  a  pleasant  salu 
tation  and  a  greeting  kiss,  luxuries  never  before 
known  in  a  morning  experience.  So  she 
smoothed  back  her  hair,  straightened  her  neck, 
twisted  her  mouth  into  something  like  a  smile, 
and  then  bustled  about  to  prepare  breakfast. 

Mrs.  Marston  felt  that  her  husband  ought  to 


134  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

let  her  take  his  place  at  his  sister's  bedside  now, 
and  try  to  get  a  little  restful  quiet,  in  the  bor 
rowed  room.  But  he  would  not  consent,  saying 
he  had  had  some  sleep  in  his  chair,  and  that 
after  he  had  heard  Maria's  account  of  her  trials, 
he  should  go  in  quest  of  lodgings.  It  was  im 
possible  for  them  to  remain  another  night  in 
such  crowded  quarters.  And  he  saw  plainly 
that  Maria  would  not  be  able  to  take  the  jour 
ney  home  with  them  for  a  number  of  days. 

The  baby,  a  good-natured  little  thing,  was  on 
good  terms  with  everybody  and  everything. 
Ruth  moved  about  less  clumsily  than  the  pre 
vious  night,  perhaps  need  of  sleep  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  her  stupidity  and  awkwardness. 
Mrs.  Mordaunt  said  that  she,  herself,  felt  better 
than  for  a  week  past,  and  in  quite  cheerful  tones 
gave  Ruth  orders  about  breakfast  and  the  care 
of  the  baby.  Altogether,  matters  didn't  look  so 
gloomy  to  the  Marstons  as  at  midnight. 

Maria  was  eager  to  relate  her  sufferings  and 
sorrows.  She  craved  their  sympathey  and  was 
ready  to  accept  their  advice  and  assistance. 
"  To  whom  else  could  I,  or  should  I  go,  Philip?  " 
she  asked,  relapsing  again  into  despondency. 

"  You  know  you  will  always  be  welcome,"  he 
returned,  "  wherever  I  am." 

"  Believing  that,  is  all  that  gives  me  courage 
now,"  she  said,  rather  more  cheerfully.  u  If  I 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  135 

may  spend  my  last  days  with  you  and  mother, 
and  leave  these  two  children  in  your  care,  I  shall 
die  happy.  I  cannot  have  thought  now  for  Wil 
lie.  Oh!  you  can't  imagine  how  disappointed  I 
am  in  that  boy!  He  was  very  promising  after 
his  father's  death ;  grew  manly  fast.  And  he  was 
good.  And  so  kind  to  us  all.  And  handsome. 
Oh !  I  was  proud  of  him.  To  think  that  he  could 
be  so  wicked  as  to  rob  his  employer,  who  treated 
him  so  nobly,  almost  broke  my  heart.  Why,  if 
Mr.  Doakson  had  been  his  father  he  couldn't 
have  felt  worse  at  Will's  theft.  And  then  in 
committing  the  theft  he  had  no  consideration 
for  me,  you  see;  after  I  had  done  so  much  for 
him,  hoping  he  could  and  would  repay  me  before 
a  great  while." 

"  You  have  no  clew  to  his  whereabouts,  have 
no  idea  where  he  has  gone?  "  asked  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Not  the  least.  Walton  and  Simpkins,  two 
of  the  other  clerks,  only  knew  that  he  was  seen 
hurrying  to  the  station  just  before  the  noon  train 
on  the  southwestern  route  started." 

"  Nothing  further?  " 

"  Nothing  further.  They  have  been  very  kind, 
have  called  to  see  me  several  times,  and  say 
they  would  prefer  he  should  escape,  he  is  so 
young.  Mr.  Doakson,  his  employer,  has  also  been 
here  to  talk  with  me.  When  he  learned  how  I 
am  situated  said  he  should  let  the  matter  drop. 


136  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Wasn't  that  kind?  He  is  wealthy  and  the  three 
hundred  dollars  that  Will  took  are  not  a  great 
loss  to  him.  But  he  was  distressed  to  know 
that  one  in  whom  he  had  placed  so  much  con 
fidence,  to  whom  he  had  become  so  warmly  at 
tached,  should  have  had  so  little  principle  and 
could  treat  him  so  dishonorably." 

"  When  did  the  robbery  occur?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Marston. 

"  At  noon,  in  broad  daylight.  The  store  is  so 
far  downtown  that  William  used  to  take  his 
lunch  with  him  and  remain  all  day,  except  when 
he  had  his  afternoon  out  for  his  baseball." 

"  Ah !  that  baseball ! "  said  Mr.  Marston,  shak 
ing  his  head  in  displeasure. 

"  I  thought  he  needed  the  exercise.  He 
looked  pale,  and  was  losing  flesh,  Philip.  I 
couldn't  bear  to  think  he  was  getting  sick  for 
the  want  of  something  of  that  kind." 

"Was  William  left  in  charge  of  the  store  at 
noon?" 

"Oh,  no;  not  in  charge.  He  attended  to  cus 
tomers  who  happened  in  then.  Other  clerks, 
Walton  and  Simpkins  among  them,  often  re 
mained  at  that  time,  and  accommodated  each 
other  in  getting  intervals  for  rest  and  eating 
lunch." 

"  Bather  a   peculiar   fashion   of  conducting 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  137 

business,  I  should  say,"  was  Mr.  Marston's  re 
sponse. 

"  It  isn't  considered  so  here.  Will  told  me 
that  most  of  the  men  employed  in  stores  stay 
all  day  in  the  busy  season.  Some  go  to  restau 
rants  to  dine.  But  quite  a  number  bring  lunch 
from  home  and  snatch  what  chance  they  can  to 
eat  it.  Trade  has  been  slack  this  spring,  Simp- 
kins  told  me,  and  few  persons  were  in  that  morn 
ing.  He  and  Walton  went  to  a  restaurant,  leav 
ing  Will  alone  half  an  hour.  When  they  came 
back  they  asked  him  who  had  been  in.  He  said 
no  one.  A  few  minutes  later,  passing  the  count 
ing-room  door,  they  noticed  that  the  safe  was 
partly  open.  They  knew  at  once  that  mischief 
had  been  done,  for  the  cashier  would  never  leave 
it  in  that  state.  Looking  in,  they  found  it 
empty.  It  was  fortunate,  Simpkins  said,  that 
in  settling  a  large  bill,  Mr.  Doakson  had  drawn 
so  low  on  its  contents  an  hour  previous.  They 
told  Will  they  had  discovered  it  partly  open  and 
empty.  Of  course  he  denied  all  knowedge  of 
it.  Yet  no  one  but  he  could  have  had  access  to 
it ;  and  in  the  face  of  such  evidence,  denial  was 
useless.  Then  they  told  him  what  would  be  the 
consequences — Mr.  Doakson's  anger,  trial,  con 
viction,  and  prison.  Will  still  declared  he  knew 
nothing  about  it,  but  he  seized  his  hat  and  coat 
and  left  the  store.  Simpkins  and  Walton  were 


138  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

as  much  shocked  as  I  that  he  should  commit 
such  a  crime;  and  of  course  to  persist  in  denial 
made  it  much  worse." 

"  Baseball  clubs  and  betting  on  the  games  are 
ruining  our  young  men,"  said  Mr.  Marston  with 
an  ominous  shake  of  his  gray  head.  "  Rough 
sport  and  too  violent  exercise  it  is,  at  best,  where 
no  betting  is  allowed.  Betting,  its  admirers  say, 
makes  the  game  more  interesting;  and  scarcely 
a  club  is  organized  without  the  expectation  of 
that  to  help  it  along.  Fractures,  dislocaions, 
and  bruises  are  bad  enough ;  but  betting  added, 
makes  baseball  immeasureably  more  hurtful  by 
its  effect  on  the  character." 

"  I  never  heard  Will  say  that  there  was  bet 
ting  in  his  club,"  returned  Mrs.  Mordaunt. 

"  Perhaps  not,  but,  ten  chances  to  one,  it  was 
there,  with  all  its  tricks  and  dissimulations. 
"  But,  there,  Maria,"  he  continued,  "  I'm  not 
going  to  blame  you.  You  don't  know  much 
about  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  the  tempta 
tions  that  beset  the  boys  now-a-days;  or  you 
would  have  tried  to  fortify  Will  for  what  he  was 
likely  to  encounter  in  that  store." 

"  If  he  were  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Marston,  "  I 
shouldn't  be  satisfied  with  the  evidence  that 
Simpkin  and  Walton  give  of  his  guilt." 

"Why,  Mary!  what  would  you  have?"  re 
joined  her  husband.  "  It  is  plain  as  daylight." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  139 

"  Plausible, — but  not  plain  to  my  mind,"  she 
returned.  "  And  Maria,  if  I  were  you,  I'd  think 
that  Willie,  wherever  he  is,  is  just  as  good  as  he 
was  before  the  robbery.  Perhaps,  sometime, 
you'll  be  permitted  to  know  it  surely.  It  would 
be  a  comfort  to  think  so,  wouldn't  it?" 

"  O  yes,  a  great  comfort,"  said  the  distressed 
mother. 

"  Take  that  comfort,  sister,  if  you  can,"  said 
Mr.  Marston  tenderly.  "  It  must  be  a  great 
grief  to  a  parent  to  feel  that  a  child  is  bringing 
misery  on  himself  as  well  as  shame  and  disgrace 
to  the  family.  Now,  about  yourself,  have  you 
said  anything  to  your  doctor  about  going  east?  " 

*  Yes,"  and  he  had  told  her,  the  day  previous, 
that  by  the  next  week  she  would  probably  be 
well  enough  to  start,  if  she  continued  to  improve 
as  during  the  past  three  days.  "  And  I  feel  so 
much  better  since  you  came,"  she  added,  "I 
think  there  will  be  no  doubt  about  it." 

Mr.  Marston  said  that  although  he  didn't  wish 
to  run  any  risk  by  starting  before  she  was  able 
to  undertake  the  journey,  he  was  anxious  to  re 
turn  as  soon  as  possible.  He  wished,  however, 
to  meet  Mr.  Doakson  and  the  young  men  in  his 
employ,  and  to  see  the  store  and  know  all  the 
details  of  the  robbery.  To-day,  being  Sunday, 
nothing  of  that  sort  could  be  done ;  but,  perhaps, 


140  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

he  could  this  afternoon  secure  a  good  lodging- 
place  near  for  himself  and  wife. 

Mrs.  Marston  said  a  good  deal  of  space  would 
be  needed  to  pack  comfortably,  and  if  Maria 
wished  to  take  all  her  belongings  that  room 
would  be  serviceable  for  assorting  and  storing 
while  they  packed.  Mrs.  Mordaunt  accepted 
the  suggestion,  and  saw  Mr.  Marston  set  off  on 
his  quest  without  demur.  While  he  was  absent, 
she  insisted  on  rising  and  dressing. 

She  had  overestimated  her  strength.  She 
fainted,  and  before  he  returned  she  was  again  in 
bed  with  Mrs.  Marston's  orders  not  to  rise  till 
she  gave  permission.  "  I  see,  Maria,  that  I  must 
treat  you  as  a  child.  And  if  you  wish  me  to 
care  for  your  children  you  must  set  them  an  ex 
ample  of  obedience,"  she  said  playfully.  Then 
she  tended  the  frolicsome  baby  till  Ruth  had 
made  the  room  as  tidy  as  she  knew  how  to  make 
it  and  was  ready  to  give  him  his  bath. 

After  that  she  wrote  a  short  letter  to  grand 
mother  Marston,  who  she  knew  would  be  an 
xious  to  hear  in  what  condition  they  had  found 
Maria  and  her  children.  When  Mr.  Marston 
came  in  she  was  near  its  conclusion.  He  had 
engaged  apartments  in  the  next  block  and  a 
hackman  was  coming  soon  to  take  their  trunks 
thither.  He  added  a  few  merry  lines  to  his 
children,  gave  grandmother  a  funny  account  of 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  141 

their  search  at  midnight  for  Maria,  and  then 
closed  the  letter.  When  the  hackinan  carried 
away  the  trunks,  he  went  with  him  and  mailed 
it.  Kuth  seemed  really  grieved  to  see  the  trunks 
leaving.  "  It  makes  me  feel  as  if  you  don't  want 
to  belong  to  us,  aunt  Mary,"  she  said,  her  eyes 
full  of  tears. 

"  If  I  had  had  the  least  suspicion  of  such  a 
thought  occurring  to  you,  Ruth,  my  trunk 
shouldn't  have  gone,  and  I'd  not  leave  the  house. 
But  your  uncle  would  still  say,  that  so  many  of 
us,  must  not  be  in  this  small  room  continually. 

The  apartments  that  Mr.  Marston  had  hired 
were  airy  and  pleasant. 

On  Monday,  Mr.  Marston  had  an  interview 
with  Mr.  Doakson  at  his  place  of  business ;  saw 
the  position  of  the  safe  in  the  counting  room 
and  the  counter  where  William  had  been  em 
ployed.  Then  took  a  general  survey  of  the  store, 
and  talked  with  Walton  and  Simpkins.  Their 
account  of  the  robbery  did  not  differ  materially 
from  that  of  Mrs.  Mordaunt's.  They  all  spoke 
well  of  the  boy's  general  conduct;  Mr.  Doakson, 
with  enthusiasm  of  his  courteous  manners, 
"  That  is  a  strain  of  the  Thorndike  family,"  put 
in  Mr.  Marston. 

"  A  very  desirable  trait,"  said  Mr.  Doakson, 
with  a  dignified  how.  "  His  diligence  and  faith 
fulness,  were  all  that  could  be  wished.  And  he 


142  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

was  a  favorite  with  customers.  I  became  much 
interested  in  watching  his  growth  in  manliness, 
and  in  his  knowledge  of  the  business  during  the 
six  months  he  was  in  our  employ.  The  discov 
ery  of  his  dishonesty  gave  me  a  great  shock,  if 
he  had  been  my  own  son,  I  don't  think  I  should 
•have  felt  worse." 

Taking  a  photograph  from  his  desk,  he  asked, 
"  Does  that  look  like  the  face  of  a  thief?  " 

Mr.  Marston  gazed  on  the  broad  brow,  the 
full,  uplifted  eyes,  straight  nose,  and  delicate 
close  set  ears  with  mingled  admiration  and  re 
gret,  "  His  grandfather  Thorndike's  brow  and 
eyes,"  he  said.  With  these  were  the  loose  lips  of 
irresolution,  and  the  small  pointed  chin  of  a 
weak  will,  "  his  father's,"  was  his  mental  com 
ment.  But  a  pleasant  smile,  seeming  the  reflec 
tion  of  an  ingenuous  and  kindly  soul,  illumined 
the  face,  and  he  was  glad  to  see  that. 

"  It  is  over  ten  years  since  I  last  saw  him.  Of 
course  the  face  of  a  six  years'  child  has  changed 
greatly  since  then,"  replied  Mr.  Marston.  "  Had 
I  not  heard  of  his  misconduct,  I  should  consider 
it  the  picture  of  a  frank,  open-hearted  young 
man;  not  particularly  intellectual,  but,  cer 
tainly,  without  vicious  tendencies." 

"  I  think  he  was  fond  of  me,"  said  Mr.  Doak- 
son,  "  He  brought  this  photo  to  me  rather  tim 
idly  one  day  and  asked  for  mine  in  exchange.  I 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  143 

told  him  I  would  sit  when  we  were  not  so  busy, 
and  he  and  all  the  other  employees  should  have 
one.  You  see  it  was  very  agreeable  to  such  an 
old  man  as  I  am,  and  it  touchd  me.  I  wish  now 
I  could  have  gratified  him  by  sitting  imme 
diately." 

He  took  off  his  glasses,  wiped  his  eyes,  and  his 
glasses  also;  and  as  Mr.  Marston  returned  the 
photograph,  looked  at  it  tenderly  some  minutes 
in  which  neither  of  them  spoke. 

"  Poor  fellow,"  said  he  at  last.  "  I  suppose 
he  was  sorely  tempted.  "  I  wish  he  had  been 
my  son,  then  he  would  have  had  no  need  of  tak 
ing  the  money." 

"  I  see  you  were  attached  to  him,"  said  Mr. 
Marston,  very  kindly. 

"  Yes.  How  could  I  help  it?  I  have  no  chil 
dren,  no  near  relatives.  And  he  was  so  at 
tractive,  with  that  smile,  that  beaming  face, 
whenever  he  chanced  to  meet  my  eyes.  And  so 
superior  to  the  other  boys  and  young  men  in  the 
store.  Ah,  well !  it  can't  be  helped  now.  I  hope 
he'll  use  the  money  properly  and  never  again  be 
tempted  to  take  what  doesn't  belong  to  him." 

"  I  thank  you  indeed,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Marston, 
"for  your  kind  consideration  of  the  boy." 

"  Oh !  I  know  all  about  it.  Yes,  for  I  was  once 
poor,  had  all  sorts  of  trials  and  temptations. 
But,  thank  God!  my  mother's  words  of  warn- 


144  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ing  came  to  my  mind  in  many  a  perilous  mo 
ment." 

"  His  baseball  expenses  and  the  betting  on 
games,  especially,  must  have  harassed  him  be 
yond  endurance,  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Mar- 
ston. 

"  Very  likely.  I  approve  of  ball-playing,  and 
when  he  asked  for  afternoons  out  because  he 
needed  exercise,  I  couldn't  refuse,  and  I  didn't 
think  of  the  money  it  might  cost  him." 

"  How  do  you  suppose  he  contrived  to  open 
the  safe?" 

"  Well,  that  was  a  puzzle  to  me  at  first.  Wal 
ton  said  there  were  chances  enough  in  the  morn 
ing  that  he  could  take  to  lay  plans  and  to  carry 
them  out,  trade  has  been  so  dull  this  spring." 

"  But,  a  boy  like  him.  It  couldn't  have  been 
opened  without  great  calculation  and  with  tools 
fitted  for  the  work." 

"  Certainly  not,  for  it  has  a  very  intricate 
lock.  Still,  he  did  it.  He  must  be  masterly  in 
genious." 

"  It  wasn't  closed  after  the  theft.  Was  the 
lock  injured?" 

"  Not  at  all.  I  suppose  he  was  startled,  per 
haps  a  customer  came  in,  before  'he  had  time  to 
shut  it." 

"  Why  didn't  Walton  and  Simpkins  make  him 
give  up  the  money  before  he  escaped?" 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  145 

"Oh!  it  was  all  so  sudden,  probably  they 
didn't  think  of  that." 

Mr.  Marston  shook  his  head  incredulously: 
"  I  never  thought  so  till  this  minute,  but  to  me 
it  looks  dark  for  them." 

"  You  astonish  me,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Doakson, 
fingering  his  glasses  nervously.  "  Why,  Walton 
has  been  in  my  employ  six  years,  and  is  my  most 
efficient  salesman ;  while  Simpkins  has  been  with 
me  over  two.  Always,  both  of  them,  looking  out 
for  my  interests,  and  faithful  in  every  respect. 
No,  no.  There  is  nothing  to  be  said  against 
them.  They  happened  to  see  the  safe  unclosed 
before  Tainter,  the  cashier,  came  in.  A  few 
minutes  later,  Tainter  would  have  been  the  dis 
coverer." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Doakson,  I  wouldn't  for  the 
world  accuse  a  person  wrongfully.  I  feel  so 
distressed  by  the  affair  and  am  so  anxious  to 
clear  William  of  the  stigma,  if  possible,  I  catch 
at  the  least  thread  that  might  lead  him  into 
the  light.  You  understand  me?" 

"  Perfectly.  I  wish  from  my  heart  I  could 
think  differently  about  the  poor  boy.  Even  now, 
if  he  would  come  back  and  confess  I  would  let 
him  have  his  place  again,  after  I  had  given  him 
advice.  I  believe  I  would  adopt  him.  He  would 
then  have  no  such  temptation  in  the  future." 

"  I'm  sure  you  couldn't  say  more.    I  thank 


146  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

you  sincerely  for  all  you  have  done,  especially 
for  the  kind  feelings  with  which  you  still  regard 
this  unfortunate  nephew.  I  wish  we  could  find 
out  where  he  is.  But  perhaps  silence,  keeping 
the  whole  circumstance  quiet,  is  the  most  char 
itable  management  at  present." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  147 


CHAPTER  X. 

EDITH'S  SURPRISE. 

"  Coming  home!  coming  home!  "  shouted  Tom 
Marston  as  Darley  drove  him  up  the  carriage 
way.  He  waved  an  open  letter  in  one  hand,  his 
hat  in  the  other. 

It  was  a  hot  afternoon  and  Prince  seemed  de 
termined  to  take  his  work  leisurely.  He  came 
along  so  slowly  that  Tom  was  sorely  tempted  to 
jump  from  the  vehicle  and  run  the  last  ten  yards. 
But  as  the  way  was  steep,  he  curbed  his  impa 
tience  and  contented  himself  with  screaming  ex 
tracts  from  the  letter. 

Harold,  for  the  first  time  had  taken  a  walk 
to  the  pines,  and  had  just  returned  fatigued  and 
very  warm.  He  lay  in  the  hammock  on  the  ver 
anda.  Polly  was  fanning  him  and  asking  ques 
tion  after  question,  in  wondering  surprise,  about 
the  pale,  wax-like  flowers  they  had  found  grow 
ing  at  the  root  of  a  pine  tree.  She  was  so  in 
terested  in  what  he  was  saying  she  had  no 
thought  for  anything  else.  It  was  Harold,  who 


148  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

first  heard  the  shouts.  He  raised  himself  im 
mediately,  sprang  out  of  the  hammock,  and  was 
ready  to  seize  the  letter  the  minute  Tom 
alighted. 

"  Where's  grandma?  "  said  Tom  in  the  same 
high  key.  "  I've  opened  the  letter  because  I 
knew  from  the  hand-writing  on  the  envelope 
that  it  came  from  papa.  But  it  is  her  letter." 

"  Call  her  down.  I  guess  it  is  for  all  of  us," 
returned  Harold. 

"No,  no,"  said  Polly  "Sh!  sh!  She's  taking 
a  nap.  It  hurts  people  to  have  sleep  disturbed." 

Edith,  whose  room  overlooked  the  piazza, 
hearing  loud  voices  and  seeing  the  letter  in 
Tom's  hand,  threw  down  her  slate  and  tossed 
the  algebra  she  had  been  studying  to  the  top 
of  her  bookcase,  and  rushed  down  stairs  and  out 
to  the  little  group  on  the  piazza;  her  cheeks 
flushed,  her  eyes  like  two  stars,  she  knew,  in 
stinctively,  from  whom  the  letter  had  come. 
"  I'll  take  it,"  she  said. 

"  Not  you ! "  said  Tom,  "  I  suppose  I  had  no 
business  to  open  and  read  the  letter.  But  if  I 
have  sinned  there  is  no  reason  why  you  or  any 
one  else  should  be  sinners  also.  This  is 
grandma's  letter,  see,  her  name  shows  that,  on 
the  envelope.  Nobody  has  any  right  to  it  but 
her,"  and  he  waved  it  tauntingly  over  his  head. 

"Oh,   dear!    don't   be   so   tantalizing,"    said 


Coming  home  !    Coming  home  !  "    shouted  Tom. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  149 

Edith.  "  If  you  won't  let  us  have  it,  tell  us 
what  papa  and  mama  have  written." 

"  No,  no.  That  would  be  conveying  stolen 
goods,  a  crime.  If  she  chooses  to  give  you  the 
information,  that's  another  thing." 

"  What  a  tease  you  are,"  said  Harold,  laugh 
ing  at  the  sober,  matter-of-fact  cast  of  Tom's 
face. 

"  Well,  they  are  coming  home,  I  know  that," 
said  Polly.  "  That's  no  news.  But  when?  that's 
the  question." 

"  It's  too  bad  Tom  won't  say,"  said  Edith,  and 
pinched  Tom's  arm  mischievously. 

It  was  just  a  little  nip,  but  Tom  shrieked  as 
if  she  had  broken  his  arm. 

"  Nonsense !  it  couldn't  have  hurt,  not  much ! " 
exclaimed  Edith. 

"What  does  all  this  mean?"  It  was  grand 
mother  Marston's  pleasant  low  voice,  as  she 
stood  beore  them. 

Tom  was  nursing  his  arm  awkwardly,  the 
letter  in  his  hand  preventing  free  use  of  fingers. 
His  face  had  a  most  doleful  expression  and  he 
groaned  lugubriously. 

"Tom  is  such  a  quiz,  you  never  can  tell 
whether  he  is  in  fun  or  earnest,"  exclaimed 
Edith. 

"  Oh !  this  is  all  fun,  grandma,"  said  Harold. 
"  He  is  feeling  gay  because  of  the  letter." 


150  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  It's  for  you,"  said  Polly.  "  And  he's  sinned 
and  read  it  first,  and  won't  tell  us  a  single 
thing." 

Grandmother  extended  her  hand.  Tom,  look 
ing  sheepish,  and  mumbling  something  about 
couldn't  resist  the  temptation,  gave  her  the  let 
ter  and  drew  her  armchair  and  foot-rest  to  the 
center  of  the  veranda.  She  put  on  her  glasses, 
glanced  over  the  closely  written  pages,  and  said 
"  They  have  started,  probably,  and  may  arrive 
the  day  after  to-morrow.  We'll  keep  the  rest  of 
the  contents  till  the  other  boys  are  here.  I  won 
der  why  they  are  not  home  from  school  yet. 
Dinner  will  be  ready  soon.  After  dinner  we'll 
have  the  whole  letter  read.  Taddie  with  Roland 
and  Robert  just  at  that  moment  came  bounding 
over  the  lawn  and  up  the  drive-way. 

"  Got  a  breath  of  air  to  spare?  "  cried  Robert, 
nearly  trampling  on  Duncan,  who  at  the  sound 
of  their  footsteps  roused  from  his  sleep  in  the 
shade  of  the  ailanthus  trees,  and  stood  lazily 
stretching  himself  on  the  gravelled  walk. 

"  Take  care,"  shouted  Tom.  "  Are  you  more 
of  a  beast  than  the  dog?" 

Polly  waved  the  huge  palmleaf  fan  furiously. 
Duncan  thought  this  a  signal  for  him  and  began 
a  trot  that  ended  in  a  succession  of  joyful  leaps 
toward  her;  and  Taddie,  as  if  taking  Dun's  ac 
tions  for  his  cue,  sprang  at  one  stride  before 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  151 

Bert,  and  taking  off  his  hat,  placed  himself  di 
rectly  in  front  of  Polly  for  the  benefit  of  the 
breeze  she  was  making. 

"  Why  do  you  run  and  get  so  warm  in  this 
summer  weather?  "  asked  Edith.  "  See  how  cool 
and  comfortable  Roland  is,  walking  up  lei 
surely." 

"Think  so?"  said  Bert.  "He  was  out  of 
breath,  had  to  walk.  Oh!  you  ought  to  have 
seen  Rollie  in  that  last  game,  never  was  a  finer 
one.  He's  had  to  pay  for  it,  though,  he's  most 
used  up." 

"  Hat-ball,  this  hot  day,"  exclaimed  Harold. 
"  I  wonder  Mr.  Parks  should  allow  it." 

"  Just  the  time  for  it,"  remarked  Roland, 
throwing  himself  on  the  piazza-steps.  His 
breath  came  in  short,  quick  gasps  and  he  was 
very  pale. 

"  O-h-h  stammered  Tad ;  "  di  didn't — 

"  Stop,  Thaddeus,"  said  his  grandmother,  lay 
ing  a  hand  on  his  arm.  "  That  old  style  of 
speech  isn't  to  be  heard,  you  know." 

"  Taddie  warm,  Taddie's  hair  warm,"  lisped 
Maud  tip-toeing,  and  hand  upraised,  as  if  to 
smooth  the  moist  wisps  which  Tad  had  stirred 
into  a  rough  tangle. 

By  this  time  Tad  was  able  to  speak  without 
stammering.  "  Didn't  the  fellows  cheer,  though, 
'cause  Rollie  winned  the  game? " 


152  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Won !  won !  won ! "  came,  with  much  laugh 
ter,  from  several  voices. 

"  One  cheer,"  said  Tad.  "  No, — all  cheered ; 
they  did,  I  saw  them  with  my  own  eyes." 

"  Hurra !  Good  for  you,  Tad,"  cried  Bert, 
kicking  his  heels  as  he  laughed,  the  rest  joining 
in  chorus. 

Polly's  laugh  suddenly  stopped,  she  saw  Tad- 
die  was  bewildered  by  the  laughter.  Taddie, 
dear,"  she  said  kindly,  "you  must  learn  defini 
tions." 

"  I  know  it,"  he  returned.  "  Miss  Leonard 
told  me  to-day  that  when  papa  gets  home  she 
will  call  and  see  about  it." 

"  Now,  I  wish  to  know,"  said  Edith,  "  if  you 
think  you  have  any  right  (I  am  speaking  to  you, 
Robert  and  Roland)  any  right  to  deface  your 
hats,  your  new  hats,  in  the  manner  that  you 
have.  Just  see  the  bruises,  almost  a  break  in 
the  crown  of  yours  Roland.  And  the  brim  of 
yours  is  very  much  out  of  shape,  Robert.  You 
must  treat  them  more  carefully." 

"  You  must  have  hate  to  play  hat-ball,"  re 
plied  Robert,  "  and  we  didn't  need  them  on  our 
heads  in  the  school  yard  this  hot  day." 

"  The  boys  in  the  game  took  their  hats  for  it, 
and  you  can't  help  the  bruises,"  said  Roland. 

"  Isn't  it  dinner  time?    I'm  hungry,"  he  ad- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  153 

ded,  now  rising.  "  Who  said  papa  and  mama 
are  coming  home?  Has  any  one  had  a  letter?  " 

The  dinner  bell  rang.  "  Ready,"  said  Edith, 
offering  her  arm  to  Harold.  Grandmother  held 
up  her  letter  to  Roland.  He  came  immediately 
to  her  side  and  must  have  asked  to  read  it,  for 
she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  No,  no.  We  will  all 
enjoy  it  together  by  and  by." 

There  was  little  talk  during  dinner.  After  a 
time  of  unusual  silence,  Edith  said,  "  I've  a 
surprise  for  some  of  you  after  dinner.  Boys 
that  can  play  ball  on  such  a  day  as  this,  can't 
fail  to  enjoy  it 

Various  were  the  conjectures  and  cogitations. 
"  Don't  try  to  guess  what  it  is,"  she  at  last  re 
plied  to  all.  "  I'll  merely  say  it  is  nothing  new, 
and  yet  it  is  interesting." 

"  Oh !  an  invitation  to  a  party,"  said  Polly. 
"  Miss  Mordaunt  told  us  on  Monday  that  some 
body  (I  can't  remember  the  name)  is  going  to 
have  a  birth-day,  and  when  Taddie  said  he  hoped 
she'd  give  a  party  and  invite  us,  Miss  Mordaunt 
guessed  she  would." 

"  I  say,  Edith,"  cried  Tom,  "  it  isn't  fair  to 
tell  us  you  have  a  surprise  and  then  not  let  us 
know  what  it  is  about.  I  call  that  'most  as  bad 
as  opening  grandma's  letter." 

"  Oh,  well,  you'll  think  differently  when  you 
enjoy  it." 


154  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Here's  the  surprise,"  said  Edith,  leaving  the 
table  and  going  to  the  dining-room  window. 
She  slowly  raised  the  shade  and  they  all  clus 
tered  around  her. 

"Tiptop!  Pine!  How  came  you  to  think  of 
that?  Looks  as  good  as  new.  Come  on,  and 
try  it  right  off.  Thanks!  thanks  ever-so-much," 
were  the  exclamations. 

"  Then  you  are  glad  of  it?  I  thought  you 
would  be,"  she  said.  "  I  bought  the  new  ribbons 
on  purpose  to  make  the  wickets  look  pretty." 

"Just  like  you,  Edith,"  said  Tom.  "And 
the  balls  and  all — newly  painted,  surely." 

"  Yes,  look  at  'em.  Just  look  at  'em, 
grandma !  "  said  Bert.  "  How  handsome  they 
are,  mallets  and  staff  and  all." 

Grandma,  looking  over  Bert  and  Roland's 
shoulders  asked,  "  Who  painted  them?  " 

"  But  she  looked  as  if  she  knew,"  Polly  said 
afterwards,  when  grandmother  smiled  and  kissed 
Edith. 

"  Oh !  I  know  !  I  know ! "  said  Tad,  clapping 
his  hands.  "  That  was  why  Polly  and  I  couldn't 
go  to  the  attic  yesterday  and  Saturday." 

Edith  smiled  and  patted  Taddie's  shoulder. 
"  You  don't  mean  that  you  painted  them?"  said 
Harold,  in  amazement,  looking  sharply  at  Edith. 

"  Why  not?  "  she  asked. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  155 

"  You  ought  to  have  let  me  do  that,"  said 
Tom. 

"  I  don't  see  why.  It  was  to  be  my  surprise," 
she  rejoined. 

"  I  shouldn't  know  it  was  our  old  croquet-set, 
I'm  sure,"  said  Roland.  "  Edith  can  do  'most 
anything." 

Tad  disappeared.  It  a  moment,  he,  with 
Duncan  at  his  heels,  was  seen  bobbing  about 
among  the  wickets. 

"  What  is  that  boy  doing  now?"  asked  Tom; 
"  I'm  going  out  to  stop  or  to  prevent  his  mis 
chief." 

"  Nobody  wishes  to  hear  the  letter  read,  I 
suppose,"  said  grandmother. 

"  I  do,"  "  and  I,"  "  and  I,"  was  her  answer, 
as  the  group  followed  her  to  the  library. 

Tad,  with  a  look  of  injured  innocence,  came  in 
at  the  veranda  door;  Duncan  and  Tom  in  the 
rear. 

"  Say,  Edith,  please,"  said  Tad,  "  I  wasn't 
hurting  the  handsome  wickets,  only  just  thought 
this  horse-shoe  would  be  pretty  to  go  with  the 
blue  one.  For  good  luck,  you  know." 

Edith  took  the  horse-shoe  he  held  toward  her. 

"  Found  it  in  the  wood,"  he  said.  "  It'll  be 
good  luck  to  tie  it  on,  I  guess." 

"  I've  just  had  a  bright  thought,"  said  Edith. 


156  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Suppose  I  give  you  a  blue  ribbon  and  we  hang 
it  with  that  over  the  door  of  the  room  cousin 
Ruth  is  to  have?  " 

"  Yes,  yes.  She  is  coming  with  papa,  is  she? 
Are  you  sure?  " 

"  Just  hear  what  papa  has  written  about  it." 
Tad  squeezed  himself  into  the  big  chair  Edith 
had  taken.  "  Room  enough  for  two,"  he  said, 
"  isn't  there?  " 

"  Plenty,  plenty,"  she  rejoined,  taking  both 
of  his  fat  hands  into  one  of  hers,  to  ensure  still 
ness,  and  answering  Polly's  signal  for  a  seat  be 
side  her  with  a  frown. 

All  sat  in  silence  while  grandmother  Marston 
read.  Occasionally  Duncan  drew  a  deep  breath 
as  if  in  appreciation,  as  he  lay  at  her  feet  and 
looked  at  her  with  blinking  eyelids. 

Polly  was  the  first  to  speak :  "  Won't  it  seem 
funny,  just  like  having  another  sister  with 
cousin  Ruth  here?" 

"  And  the  baby.  What  will  Maud  say,  I  won 
der,"  said  Roland. 

"  I  guess  we  shall  have  to  make  less  noise  with 
so  many  here,"  remarked  Robert. 

"A  wise  suggestion,"  said  grandma.  "We 
shall  do  well  to  act  upon  it.  I  recommend  its 
immediate  adoption." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  nice  to  have  papa  at  home 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  157 

again.  Nothing  has  seemed  right  since  he  went 
away,"  said  Tom. 

"  And  mama,  too,"  said  Tad. 

"  I  suppos-e  they  will  all  be  sad,"  said  Polly ; 
"  because  aunt  Maria's  father  is  dead." 

"  Husband,  you  mean,"  corrected  Tad,  with 
an  air  of  superior  wisdom. 

"  Then  we  must  be  gentle  and  quiet  in  all 
our  ways,"  said  grandma.  "  I've  noticed  less 
care  to  be  gentle  since  Harold  has  been  gaining 
and  has  fewer  headaches.  We  had  improved  so 
much  in  that  respect  I  had  hoped  we  should  al 
ways  be  so,  both  in  voice  and  in  manners.  Let 
us  begin  again  for  aunt  Maria's  and  Ruth's 
sake." 

"  Agreed,  agreed,"  said  Robert,  in  no  very 
gentle  tones.  u  Be  cautious,  cautious,  Robert," 
said  grandmother,  "gentleness  in  all  things," 
and  Bert's  words  were  repeated  very  quietly. 

"  Suppose  we  have  a  banner  for  welcome," 
said  Edith. 

"  Yes,  yes,  a  banner  with  *  Welcome '  in  large 
letters  to  hang  out  over  the  door,"  said  Polly, 
and  all  agreed. 

"  It  will  be  better  than  the  ovation  when 
grandma  and  Oldie  went  down  the  garden,"  said 
Tad. 

"  Of  course,"  said  grandma,  because  your  aunt 


158  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Maria  and  cousin  Ruth  need  something  very 
cheering  just  now." 

"  I  hope,"  added  Edith,  "  they  won't  be  home 
sick.  I  thought  Ruth  might  like  to  play  croquet 
to  divert  her  mind." 

"  Then  that  was  why  you  painted  it  so  nicely, 
and  set  it  up — was  it "  asked  Harold.  "  I'm 
proud  of  you,  sister." 

"  It  was  very  kind,  very  thoughtful  of  you, 
Edith,"  said  grandmother.  "  I  hope  she'll  ap 
preciate  it." 

"  I  wonder  who  Ruth  looks  like,"  observed 
Tom.  "  I  remember  aunt  Maria  distinctly,  just 
the  way  she  laughed,  and  how  she  shook  her 
curls  when  she  said  something  funny.  She  was 
so  merry  about  going  to  Colorado.  I  don't  sup 
pose  she  makes  jokes  now." 

"  Sorrow  changes  one  more  than  time,  much 
more  rapidly,"  returned  his  grandmother.  "  I 
am  glad  you  remember  her  happy  looks.  We 
must  all  be  cautious  about  questions  or  remarks 
that  would  be  likely  to  recall  her  sorrows  to 
mind.  Her  heaviest  sorrow  is  Willie's  disap 
pearance.  I  pity  her  most  for  that.  And  I  pity 
the  poor  thoughtless  boy,  too.  It  is  such  a  sad 
thing  to  be  capable  of  doing  the  wrong  that  he 
has  done.  I  wish  it  could  be  possible  that  a  mis 
take  has  been  made,  that  it  could  be  proved  that 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  159 

he  didn't  do  that  wrong.     Perhaps,  perhaps  it 
may  be — some  time." 

She  stopped  to  wipe  away  tears.  Then  she 
went  on  more  hopefully — "  Yes — yes — we  will 
all  hope  for  that.  What  a  happy  day  that  would 
be  for  us  all ! " 


160  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  XL 

POLLY  TELLS  A  STORY. 

EVERY  member  of  the  family  was  astir  early, 
for  this,  the  day  to  welcome  the  returning  trav 
ellers,  couldn't  be  any  too  long,  and  the  dawn 
gave  promise  of  fine  weather.  Long  before  sun 
rise  the  robins  were  singing  gleefully  as  they 
tilted  on  the  swaying  boughs  of  the  larches,  or 
flitted  to  and  from  their  nests  in  jubilant 
unrest;  the  sound  of  a  distant  bell  chiming  a 
pleasant  refrain  to  the  birdsongs.  Then  were 
heard  the  lowing  of  kine  on  their  way  to  pasture ; 
the  bleating  of  a  few  sheep  hurrying  over  the 
hills;  and,  nearer,  the  hum  of  insects,  the  drone 
of  bees,  children's  merry  voices,  and  all  the  med 
ley  of  tones  and  their  reverberations  that  make 
up  the  harmony  of  happy,  active  life. 

A  little  later  a  light  breeze  swept  widely  from 
the  west,  the  sun  looked  forth  from  a  cloudless 
sky,  and  there  could  be  seen  the  green  lawn 
freshly  clipped,  the  long  branches  of  the  ailan- 
thus  trees  in  their  handsomest  growth,  the  fruit 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  161 

just  setting  on  the  cherry  and  apple-trees,  the 
blooming  shrubs  and  garden  flowers  rejoicing 
in  their  new  existence  of  early  June,  and  ready 
to  present  Pleasant  Hill  in  its  highest  beauty 
for  the  inspection  of  its  owner,  expected,  now, 
hourly. 

This  was  the  near  view.  In  the  rear  were 
well-tilled  fields  giving  evidence  of  faithful  labor 
and  promise  of  abundant  harvest  in  the  delicate 
verdure  of  the  springing  corn,  and  the  various 
shades  of  deeper  green  displayed  by  a  diversity 
of  vegetable  growth;  while  beyond  these,  the 
belt  of  evergreens,  pines  and  spruces,  with  its 
occasional  glimpse  of  the  blue  river,  still  farther 
in  the  distance,  lent  a  hint  of  shade  and  cool 
ness  and  quiet  restfulness. 

Grandmother  Marston  had  summoned  Susan 
as  she  passed  her  door  to  draw  aside  the  window 
curtain  and  she  lay  placidly  contemplating  the 
green  fields  with  grateful  thoughts  of  the  Al 
mighty  Power  which  had  provided  so  much 
beauty  as  well  as  so  much  comfort  for  her  old 
age.  There  was  a  light  tap  at  the  door,  which 
Susan  had  closed  contrary  to  the  usual  custom, 
and  Tad's  voice,  unnecessarily  shrill,  consider 
ing  the  nearness  of  his  hearer,  said, — "  To 
morrow's  here,  to-morrow's  here,  grandma." 

"  Yes,  yes,  dear,"  she  returned  softly.  "  Come 
in." 


1 62  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Can't,"  came  in  the  same  shrill  tones. 
"  Haven't  had  my  bath  yet.  Thought  you'd  like 
to  know — 'cause  they'll  be  home  by  and  by. 
And  sometimes  you  forget,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  yes,  thank  you.  I'll  try  to  remember," 
came  grandmother's  gentle  response. 

Then  there  was  a  rush  and  a  patter  of  bare 
feet  in  the  hall,  followed  by  silence. 

After  a  brief  space  came  a  still  lighter  tap 
and  a  quiet  voice  asking — "  May  I  come  in?  " 

It  was  Polly.  "  Right  in,  child,  right  in," 
was  responded. 

Eager  questions  of  why  the  door  was  closed 
and  if  she  were  sick  had  a  little  low  laugh  for 
answer,  and  Polly  was  soon  cuddled  close  to  her 
grandmother's  side,  one  arm  around  her  neck, 
an  indulgence  occasionally  granted  of  an  early 
morning,  and  there  was  a  long  confidential  talk 
between  them  about  Polly's  broken  nose  and 
bruised  face, — whether  the  "  bruise  color  "  was 
all  gone,  and  if  the  nose  looked  "  exactly  as  it 
ought." 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  on  account  of  papa  and 
mama,"  Polly  said,  "  because  they  know  about 
the  soul  inside,  but  other  people  don't  think  of 
that,  I'm  afraid.  For  yesterday  Darley  asked 
me  if  I  thought  such  a  crooked  nose  could  give 
me  half  the  goodness  of  the  roses  I  was  cutting 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  163 

from  that  wild  bush  on  the  edge  of  the  corn 
field. 

Grandmother  took  Polly's  disengaged  hand 
and  gave  it  a  tender  squeeze.  It  was  not  a  par 
ticularly  handsome  hand.  On  the  contrary,  it 
was  short  and  fleshy,  like  its  owner,  and  the 
dimples  on  its  back  did  not  improve  its  appear 
ance.  Polly  had  often  noticed  how  very  red 
it  seemed  in  contrast  with  her  grandmother's, 
and  sometimes,  in  contrast  with  Annie  Nelson's 
and  other  girls'  hands.  She  wondered  why  it 
was  so  red,  but  could  think  of  it  without  annoy 
ance. 

"  This  is  a  good  hand  to  do  whatever  you  de 
sire  to  do  with  it,"  said  grandmother.  "  Though 
you  know  it  is  red,  and  you  know  that  every  one 
who  looks  on  it  sees  it  is  red,  yet  that  knowl 
edge  doesn't  make  you  uncomfortable." 

"  No,  I  should  be  a  silly  to  feel  uncomfortable 
for  that." 

"  I  thought  you'd  say  so.  Just  think  of  your 
nose  in  the  same  way.  Or,  rather,  don't  give  any 
thought  to  your  nose,  it  is  just  as  capable  of 
performing  what  it  was  created  to  perform  as 
ever  it  was;  and  if  ever  a  person  by  word,  or 
look,  suggests  a  doubt  of  it,  as  Darley  did  yes 
terday, — pay  no  heed,  or  give  a  merry  answer 
and  it  will  soon  cease  to  be  noticed." 

"  But  Ishould  like  to  'have  mama  when  she 


164  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

first  sees  me  say — *  How  nice  you  look,  Polly. 
Now,  your  nose  is  all  right/  " 

"  Take  care,  my  dear.  Don't  let  the  wish  to 
have  people  think  well  of  you,  of  your  appear 
ance,  rather,  lead  you  to  be  vain  and  so  you  get 
careless  of  being  all  well,  all  right,  and  only  take 
pains  to  appear  so;  which  will  be  very  wrong 
and  very  sad.  Even  if  you  are  a  little  girl,  you 
know  it  would  be  so." 

"  The  boys  are  putting  up  the  oak-garlands," 
said  Edith,  who  had  allowed  Maud  to  follow  her 
light  knock  immediately  and  had  come  with  her 
morning  greeting. 

"  Dear  me ! "  exclaimed  Polly,  springing  to 
her  feet,  and  with  a  little  butterfly  kiss  on  the 
hand  still  grasping  hers,  she  was  free  to  fly — 
which  she  did — more  clumsily  than  a  butterfly 
could,  it  must  be  confessed — to  Edith's  room. 

Tom  had  suggested  that  he  should  come  home 
from  school  at  the  intermission  and  remain  the 
rest  of  the  day.  He  argued  that  as  his  father 
and  mother  would  probably  arrive  in  Hillsford 
at  two  o'clock,  they  would  proceed  to  Pleasant 
Hill  as  soon  as  possible,  and  expect  an  early 
dinner;  would  wish  to  meet  all  the  family  im 
mediately.  Of  course  the  other  boys  were  of  the 
game  opinion,  and  grandmother  a,nd  Edith  gave 
consent  for  all  to  be  excused  from  attending 
school.  Tom  also  proposed  sending  Darley  with 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  165 

the  buggy  to  the  railroad  station  to  bring  the 
travellers  home  (he  would  walk,  "three  miles 
wasn't  much  to  take  occasionally.") 

Lottie  was  delighted  to  show  what  she  could 
do  towards  the  reception.  She  made  Mr.  Mars- 
ton's  favorite  pudding  and  Mrs.  Marston's  favor 
ite  salad.  Never  was  roast  of  beef  better  treated, 
and  spring  vegetables  the  same.  Bert  and  Rol 
and  were  proud  of  the  asparagus  and  radishes 
they  'had  raised,  and  Lottie  managed  them  with 
due  regard.  Everything  moved  on  auspiciously, 
without  break  or  accident.  The  two  hours  that 
must  afterward  elapse  before  they  could  look  for 
the  returning  travellers  seemed  tedious.  But 
they  were  as  patient  as  possible  till  Maud, 
dressed  in  her  best  white  gown,  which  she  in 
sisted  on  wearing,  came  to  the  veranda  singing, 
"  My  sweetie  mama !  she  never,  never  come ! " 

Roland  couldn't  bear  that.  He  began  to  pace 
the  veranda.  Tom  threw  down  his  book,  yawned 
and  stretched  himself  on  the  lounge.  Robert  set 
off  to  reconnoiter  the  precincts  of  the  pantry 
and  dining-room.  Taddie  smoothed  his  hair  and 
stirred  it  up  again  every  few  minutes  as  he  stood 
at  the  end  of  the  veranda,  watching  all  that 
passed  on  the  road.  But  neither  of  them  spoke. 

Grandmother  was  knitting  contentedly ;  Polly, 
on  a  stool  at  her  side,  measured  the  yarn  and 
guessed  now  and  then  how  many  rounds  would 


166  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

be  knit  before  they  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
buggy.  Finally  Polly  shouted,  "  There's  the 
team,  turning  the  corner." 

Harold,  feeling  better  than  for  a  week,  had 
kept  his  room  until  now.  He  heard  Polly's 
shout,  and  came  forward,  with  straining  eyes 
fixed  on  the  approaching  vehicle,  and  with  the 
others  was  compelled  to  believe  that  Darley  was 
really  alone.  Oh!  the  disappointment!  and 
wonderment.  All  talked  rapidly,  surmizing  and 
conjecturing  what  could  have  happened. 

Brown,  immediately  behind,  angrily  urged 
and  spurred  his*  horse,  making  a  great  noise. 
Darley  came  along  quietly,  and  it  was  his  voice 
that  checked  the  babel  of  sounds.  "  Didn't 
come,"  he  said.  "  A  collision  down  Albany  way 
stopped  travel.  Can't  get  here  till  to-morrow. 
Lucky  they  weren't  coming  on  that  first  train, 
some  that  took  it  won't  travel  any  more,  not  in 
this  world." 

"  Are  you  sure?  How  did  you  hear  such  a  sad 
story?  "  asked  grandmother. 

"  Telegrams  to  the  station,  ma'am.  Bulle 
tins  up  too.  Worst  mishap  in  a  year." 

"  Too  bad,  too  bad,"  was  the  comment  of  all 
the  children. 

Roland  resumed  his  walk  on  the  veranda  with 
a  most  disconsolate  face.  Tad,  who  at  Polly's 
shout  had  seized  again  the  banner,  brandishing 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  167 

it  as  if  it  were  a  warlike  weapon,  now  brought 
it  to  Roland.  He  took  it  sadly,  and  returned  it 
to  the  dining-room. 

"  Let's  follow  him  in  procession  said  Edith. 
"  Dinner  will  be  on  the  table  presently." 

"  So  soon  after  lunch?  I  guess  nobody  wants 
dinner  yet." 

"  Our  appetites  won't  be  absent  long  after  we 
are  seated  at  the  table,"  said  grandmother. 

"  It's  the  best  thing  to  be  done  now,"  said 
Harold. 

"If  papa  were  only  here!"  Polly  exclaimed, 
bursting  into  tears. 

Tad's  face  was  very  red  and  his  trim  little 
figure  seemed  to  swell  and  expand  with  his 
efforts  to  control  his  grief.  He  had  such  a  big 
lump  in  his  throat,  and  such  a  sharp  pain  there, 
he  thought  he  was  going  to  lose  his  breath.  But, 
Polly,  blundering  along,  tripped  at  a  rug  and 
fell  against  his  shoulder,  giving  him  a  great 
start  and  driving  away  the  lump  and  the  pain. 
And  Tom's  merry  cry,  "  Now,  now,  Polly wog !  " 
with  a  finger  at  his  own  nose  led  Polly  to  feel 
of  that  much  afflicted  member  in  such  a  comical 
way  that  Tad  laughed  outright.  The  laugh  was 
contagious.  Soon  all  at  the  table  were  in  a 
roar,  for  Maud  was  mimicking  Tom  in  both 
voice  and  gesture.  So  the  dinner  passed  off 
well,  though  the  dainties  specially  prepared  for 


i68  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

their  parents,  by  unanimous  consent  were  con 
signed  to  the  refrigerator,  "  for  further  discus 
sion,"  Tom  said. 

Sunset  came  at  last.  Everybody  seemed  un 
usually  silent. 

"  Tired,  Oldie?  "  asked  Tom,  giving  the  ham 
mock  a  swing  in  which,  after  supper,  Harold  lay, 
quietly  looking  at  the  changing  hues  of  the 
clouds  and  the  shadows  falling  upon  the  grass 
of  the  meadow. 

"  Somewhat,"  returned  Harold,  "  getting  re 
created  for  to-morrow,  I  hope." 

"Oh,  I  say,  Polly wog,  where  are  you?"  went 
on  Tom,  looking  over  the  lawn  and  gazing  to 
ward  the  garden ;  "  Come!  it's  just  the  time  for  a 
story." 

From  somewhere  in  the  rear  of  the  house  came 
Polly's  voice,  "  All  right,  I'll  be  ready  in  a 
minute." 

"  Come  on  then.  Hurry  up  here,  Taddie.  All 
hands  on  deck,  piazza,  I  mean,  for  story  telling." 

"  Who's  to  begin?  "  from  several  voices.  Tom 
marshalled  them  to  convenient  places,  his  grand 
mother  in  the  middle  of  the  company.  "  She  is 
to  be  Schherazade,"  he  said. 

"  No,  no,"  she  protested.  "  You  mustn't  ex 
pect  so  much  from  me.  I'll  begin,  and  if  any  of 
you  get  lost  following  Fancy,  I'll  try  to  rescue 
you."  This  was  satisfactory,  so  she  began — 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  169 

"  On  the  right  bank  of  a  beautiful  river,  Rol 
and's  hand  was  raised.  "  Which  is  the  right 
bank  of  a  river,  please?  " 

"  That  side  of  a  river  which  is  at  a  person's 
right  hand  in  looking  toward  the  river's  mouth," 
said  Tom. 

"  Right,"  said  grandmother ;  "  not  far  from 
the  river's  mouth  a  small  collection  of  houses; 
that  from  year  to  year  was  increased  slowly  by 
the  addition  of  a  cottage,  a  barn,  or  a  shed  ac 
cording  to  the  gains  of  the  people  who  lived 
there,  and  employed — " 

She  bowed  to  Harold.  He  continued  "  Em 
ployed  themselves  in  fishing,  and  in  making  salt 
for  curing  the  fish,  which  was  all  the  means  they 
had  for  the  support  of  their  families." 

Tad  had  held  his  hand  very  high.  "  How  did 
they  make  salt?  I  thought  salt  grew  in — no! 
was  dug  out  of  caves  and  mines." 

"  Correct.  Or,  rather,  not  far  from  right," 
said  grandmother.  "  Salt  mines  and  great  beds 
of  salt  are  found  in  some  parts  of  the  world.  It 
is  also  made  from  sea-water,  drawn  into  large 
shallow  vats  and  exposed  to  the  sun.  As  the 
water  evaporates  the  salt  remains  in  crystals  at 
the  sides  and  base  of  the  vat." 

"  Now,"  said  Tom,  "  it  is  your  turn,  Edith." 

"  In  one  of  those  families  were  six  boys,  all 
learning  to  be  fishermen,  and  five  girls,  who  did 


170  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

nothing  but  make  nets  for  their  father  and 
brothers  to  catch  fish  in;  and  scold  their 
mother  " — 

"  Oh,  Edith,  don't  have  that,"  said  Polly. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Tom,  "  Scold  their  mother 
because  of  an  old  black  cat  that  she  petted  and 
must  always  have  the  first  and  best  of  every 
thing  they  had  to  eat;  till  one  day" — 

"  I  can't  tell  anything  about  that  cat,"  said 
Roland. 

"  I  can,  I  can,"  said  Bert. 

"  Go  ahead  then,"  said  Tom. 

"  One  day  when  there  had  been  a  storm,  a 
dreadful  storm,  that  broke  through  the  salt  vat, 
and  blew  half  the  roof  of  the  cottage  off,  the  cat 
disappeared,  and  the  mother  cried  all  night." 

"  I  know  now,"  said  Roland  in  great  glee ; 
"  she  cried  all  night  because  the  father  and  the 
boys  were  in  their  little  boats  on  the  stormy  sea, 
in  all  the  darkness,  and  she  couldn't  expect  them 
to  come  home  again,  on  account  of  the  cat  get 
ting  lost,  because  in  that  country  where  they 
lived  everybody  thought  a  black  cat  was  a  wise 
creature,  and  knew  all  about  storms  and  ship 
wrecks  and  everything." 

"  Oho!  what  country  is  that?"  asked  Tad. 

"You'll  know  when  you  study  f/eeography," 
said  Polly ;  "  It's  my  turn  now.  But  they  did 
come  home  all  safe  and  sound.  And  the  father 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  171 

had  in  his  boat  a  gentleman  and  a  little  girl- 
baby.  A  ship  had  been  wrecked  in  the  storm 
and  the  people  in  the  ship  had  to  take  life  pre 
servers  and  try  to  swim  for  the  shore,  and  he 
overtook  the  man  with  the  girl-baby  and  took 
them  in  and  brought  them  to  his  house." 

"Yes,  yes!    And — and — a — a — " 

"  Stop,  stop,  Taddie !  Don't  be  in  such  haste," 
said  his  grandmother. 

Taddie  smiled.  His  cheeks  were  red  and  his 
eyes  very  bright. 

"  You  are  all  ready,  dear,"  she  continued,  "  to 
tell  us  something  interesting.  Take  time  for  it. 
Speak  slowly  and  clearly.  Now ! " 

"  It  wasn't  the  gentleman's  own  baby ;  and — " 

"  Oh !  yes  it  was — I  meant  it  to  be  his  very 
own,"  said  Polly. 

"  Never  mind.  Let  Taddie  tell  it  his  own  way. 
When  your  turn  comes  you  may  do  the  same," 
said  Edith. 

"  No — it  was  not  his  own  baby.  He  was  a 
very  kind  gentleman  and  he  was  coming  from  a 
country  where  all  the  girl  babies  that  can  be 
found  are  thrown  into  the  river,  and  the  alliga 
tors  eat  them." 

"  What  a  dreadful  story,"  groaned  Polly. 
"  Isn't  he  getting  lost  following  Fancy?  Why 
don't  you  rescue  him,  grandma?  "• 


172  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Grandmother  smiled ;  "  Let's  hear  what  comes 
next,"  she  said. 

"  It's  just  so,  Pollywog.  I  heard  Miss  Leon 
ard  the  other  day  telling  the  geography  class 
about  that  river  and  the  people  and  the  alliga 
tors.  And  the  gentleman  pitied  the  poor 
woman  who  had  to  give  her  baby  to  the  alli 
gator,  pitied  the  baby,  too,  and  caught  it  before 
the  alligator  came  close  enough  for  it,  and  took 
it  to  the  ship  that  was  going  to  the  country 
where  the  fishermen  were.  He  meant  to  give 
the  baby  a  nice  home  with  his  children. — It's 
grandma's  turn  now.  Maud  isn't  old  enough." 

Maud,  sitting  in  Susan's  lap  on  the  top  step 
of  the  veranda,  had  been  very  still,  listening  to 
all  that  was  said.  Hearing  her  name  pronouced, 
she  raised  both  arms,  her  little  hands  fluttering 
all  yight,"  she  said, 
like  wings. — "  Kin  man  catch  'e  baby,  keep  'e 

"  Very  good,  very  good,"  said  Harold,  and  all 
the  others  smiled. 

"  Yes,"  said  grandmother,  "  the  kind  man  had 
caught  the  baby  and  meant  to  keep  her  all  right. 
But  the  shock  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  vessel, 
the  loss  of  his  property  that  was  stored  in  the 
vessel's  hold,  and  the  exhaustion  resulting  from 
his  attempts  to  reach  land  brought  on  a  fever 
from  which  he  did  not  recover." 

"Oh!"  sighed  Polly,  dolefully. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  173 

"  Harold's  turn  now,"  said  Edith. 

"It  was  very  sad  for  the  gentleman  to  know 
that  he  could  not  reach  his  own  home,"  said 
Harold.  "  But  before  he  died  he  called  the  fish 
erman  and  his  wife  and  his  six  sons  and  ten 
daughters " 

"  Five !  five  daughters — only  five ! "  shouted 
Tad  and  Polly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  five  daughters  and  told  them  all  he 
knew  about  the  baby,  and  her  country,  and  that 
he  had  intended  to  bring  her  up  as  nicely  and  as 
kindly  as  if  she  were  his  daughter;  and  if  she 
lived  to  be  a  woman,  she  should  return  to  her 
native  place  and  teach  the  people  there  what  she 
had  learned  of  God  and  the  right  way  to  live. 
He  told  them  about  his  home — where  it  was,  and 
of  his  friends,  and  thought  if  one  of  the  fisher 
man's  family  should  go  to  these  friends  they 
would  do  for  the  baby  all  that  he  had  hoped  to 
do.  But  they » 

"  They  had  no  money  to  pay  for  such  a  long 
journey,"  said  Edith.  "  So  the  baby  lived  in  the 
fisherman's  family  and  grew  up  and  was  like 
another  daughter,  till  one  day — " 

"  One  day,"  broke  in  Roland,  "  the  fisherman's 
wife  told  her  all  about  the  wreck,  and  the  gen 
tleman,  and  what  he  had  wished  to  do  for  her. 
But  there  was  no  school — " 

"  No  school  in  the  village,"  said  Robert,  "  so 


174  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

she  couldn't  be  taught  to  read,  nor  any  of  those 
things  the  gentleman  had  wished  her  to  learn 
and  then  go  to  her  native  place  and  teach  them 
to  the  people  there.  But  there  was  a  large 
city—" 

"A  large  city  farther  up  the  river,"  said 
Polly.  "  And  a  lady  who  lived  there  rode  down 
to  the  village  to  see  if  any  of  the  people  needed 
help.  And  when  she  saw  this  little  black-eyed 
girl,who  looked  so  different  from  the  others,  she 
asked  all  about  her. — Now,  Taddie,  tell  us 
more." 

*  Yes;  and  she  loved  her  right  away,  because 
she  saw  the  beautiful  soul  that  shone  in  her  eyes. 
And  she  took  her  to  live  with  herself  and  gave 
her  books  and  sent  her  to  school.  And,  most 
likely,  by  and  by,  when  she  is  old  enough,  she 
will  go  to  her  native  place  and  teach  the  people 
all  that  the  gentleman  wished." 

ti  Very  well  ended,"  said  grandmother. 
"  Gymnastics  now,  children.  Then  the  day's 
closing  exercises,  you  know." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  175 


CHAPTER  XII. 

COMING   HOME. 

"WHY!  Here's  Darley  coming  back.  And 
Tom's  with  him,"  said  Robert.  "  What  does  it 
mean,  I  wonder."  He  stood  at  the  dining-room 
window  looking  down  the  road.  All  ready  for 
going  to  school,  he  was  waiting  for  Roland,  who 
was  in  the  garden  gathering  a  few  flowers  to 
take  to  his  teacher,  Mr.  Parks. 

Another  shout — "  Oh,  hurrah !  hurrah !  here 
they  are.  Coming  in  a  hack,  right  behind  Dar 
ley,"  he  added,  as  with  one  bound  he  seized  Rol 
and's  banner  and  rushed  down  the  front  walk. 

Polly,  hearing  the  shouts,  summoned  Taddie 
who  was  laboriously  brushing  his  scanty  locks, 
and  soon  they  both,  with  Edith  and  Roland,  ran 
pell-mell  to  the  driveway.  Robert,  flourishing 
the  banner,  had  reached  the  hack,  regardless  of 
the  hackman's  warnings  and  his  restive  horses. 
Mr.  Marston  seeing  the  danger,  leaped  from  the 
hack,  and  without  a  word  turned  aside  the  ban 
ner  and  took  Bert  to  his  arms.  The  hack  ad- 


176  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

vanced  slowly  much  more  slowly  than  he  up 
the  ascent.  "  I  can't  scold  you,  Bertie,"  he  said 
as  he  stood  the  boy  on  the  veranda.  "  But  ,if 
ever  you  do  such  a  thing  again,  I'm  afraid  you'll 
be  beyond  scolding.  It's  almost  a  miracle  that 
you  weren't  killed. 

The  children  swarmed  around  their  father 
with  shouts  and  questions.  He  placed  the  ban 
ner  by  the  door  and  tried  to  answer  them — Tad, 
tugging  at  his  coat,  Polly  covering  his  hands 
with  kisses.  Tom  reached  him  in  time  for  a 
hand  shake  before  the  hack  was  at  the  door. 
Then  he  gave  the  baby,  fast  asleep,  to  Edith's 
outstretched  arms  and  set  Ruth  beside  Polly 
while  his  father  led  his  aunt  in.  Mrs.  Marston 
could  get  no  farther  than  the  veranda,  so  many 
arms  were  around  her,  so  many  eager  kisses  on 
her  face.  And  then  Susan  brought  Maud,  over 
joyed  to  see  her  mother,  but  mystified  by  the 
presence  of  the  baby.  Lottie  came  too,  and  even 
Brown  and  Darley  for  congratulations. 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  had  gone  directly  with  Mr. 
Marston  to  Grandmother  Marston's  room; 
Harold,  hearing  his  father's  voice,  joined  them 
there.  "  Well,  well,  my  son,"  was  the  father's 
cherry  salutation.  "What's  the  gain?  Do  you 
get  a  walk  to  the  pines  every  day?  " 

"  Not  every  day.    But  I  have  been  there, — am 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  177 

gaining,  I  think.  Not  so  fast  as  I  wish,  how 
ever." 

His  father  said  nothing  more  about  his  health, 
but  watched  him  anxiously  as  he  listened  to  the 
conversation  between  Mrs.  Mordaunt  and  her 
mother.  In  a  few  minutes  they  all  went  down 
to  the  library. 

"  And  we  haven't  had  the  singing  either,"  it 
was  Taddie's  doleful  response.  He  and  Polly 
had  been  telling  their  aunt  about  the  prepara 
tions  for  the  welcome.  The  garlands  and  the 
banner  had  been  duly  admired  by  her  as  well  as 
by  their  mother,  and  the  account  of  yesterday's 
disappointment,  graphically  told,  received  ready 
regrets. 

"Can't  we  have  the  singing  now?"  said  Mr. 
Marston.  "  I  see  nothing  to  hinder." 

Edith  carried  the  sleeping  baby  to  the  nursery 
and  then  played  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  while 
all  sang.  After  that  the  details  of  the  railroad 
accident  that  had  detained  them  had  to  be  re 
lated,  and  something  that  his  father  said  about 
the  blackened  faces  of  the  brakeman  and  conduc 
tor  of  the  train  reminded  Taddie  of  his  adven 
ture  in  the  burnt  room  and  the  wheel  of  flame. 
If  Lottie  hadn't  rung  the  bell  to  summon  his 
father  and  mother  to  a  hasty  lunch  she  had  pre 
pared  for  them,  he  would  have  told  of  it  imme 
diately  and  asked  forgiveness. 


178  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Isn't  it  time  for  these  boys  to  go  to  school?  " 
Mr.  Marston  said  to  his  wife,  as  they  passed  to 
the  dining-room.  "  Of  course  it's  too  late  for 
Tom." 

But  there  was  such  an  earnest  plea  for  re 
maining  at  home,  he  ordered  them  to  take  their 
books  and  study  an  hour,  while  he  and  their 
mother  had  opportunity  for  a  quiet  talk  with 
Edith  and  Harold  about  matters  and  things. 

Taddie  had  no  lesson-book  at  home.  He 
curled  himself  up  with  Duncan  (who  had  just 
escaped  from  his  place  in  the  barn)  on  a  corner 
of  the  veranda,  cogitating  the  burnt-room  ad 
venture  and  thinking  what  he  should  say  about 
it.  Polly,  pleased  to  have  Ruth  ask  about  her 
dolls,  forgot  her  nose,  and  followed  her  to  the 
dining-room.  She  sat  demurely  on  the  lounge 
behind  her  father's  chair,  saying  nothing,  but 
listening  intently  to  what  he  said  about  Colo 
rado,  and  what  his  friend,  Mr.  Stearns,  had  ad 
vised  in  regard  to  southern  California  as  a 
health  resort.  "  If  you  don't  gain  faster  before 
winter,  Harold,  I  guess  you  and  I  must  take  a 
trip  out  there,  and  escape  our  harsh  winds  and 
sudden  changes  of  temperature." 

"  Oh !  I  think  now  that  summer  is  here,  I 
shall  gain  faster,"  Harold  said  with  a  gay  little 
laugh.  "  I  want  to  try  gymnastics,  dumb  bells, 
at  least." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  179 

"You  shall,  you  shall.  I  wonder  how  the 
boys  have  gone  on;  they  mustn't  neglect  those." 
"  By  the  way,"  he  said,  turning  to  Edith,  "  What 
did  Taddie  mean  in  what  he  wrote  about  the 
flaming  wheel?  That  couldn't  have  been  in  a 
circus,  I  think." 

The  mystery  was  soon  explained.  Both  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marston  laughed  heartily  at  Edith's 
description  of  Taddie's  forlorn  appearance  when 
she  and  Miss  Mordaunt  first  laid  eyes  on  him  in 
the  unknown  passage  way.  "  We  must  get  rid 
of  all  those  chemicals,"  he  said,  nodding  to  Tom. 
"  I  had  no  idea  that  the  rubbish  Dr.  Houghton 
mentioned  as  being  there,  consisted  of  such  ma 
terials.  So  Squire  Hamilton  had  a  son  that  dis 
appeared  unaccountably,  Maria,  not  an  uncom 
mon  thing  you  see,"  he  added.  "  I  ought  to  have 
been  told  of  the  danger  in  those  rooms.  I  be 
lieve  I'll  have  a  thorough  look  at  them  now." 

Tad  wondered  where  his  father  and  mother 
were.  He  still  sat  fondling  Dun,  yet  anxiously 
pondering,  dreading  to  tell  his  father  of  his  en 
trance  to  those  unknown  rooms,  but  knowing 
that  he  ought.  The  others  were  playing  at  cro 
quet.  As  soon  as  Ruth  could  leave  the  baby  in 
grandmother's  care,  she  and  Polly  joined  in  the 
croquet. 

Tad,  so  unusually  retiring  and  silent,  at 
tracted  Harold's  attention.  He  went  toward 


180  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

him.  Tad  looked  up  as  lie  heard  his  footsteps 
— "  Oh,  hum !  this  isn't  any  sort  of  a  day — it's 
a  dreadfully  broken  up  one,  isn't  it,  Oldie?  " 

"  Broken  up?  "  repeated  Harold  as  if  not  cer 
tain  of  Tad's  meaning. 

"  Yes.  Nothing  goes  right,  'Twasn't  a  bit  of 
a  good  welcome.  And  all  because  of  that  rail 
road  accident,  and  they  couldn't  get  home  yes 
terday,  when  everything  was  nice  and  ready  for 
them." 

"  Of  course  you  mean  papa  and  mama  couldn't 
get  home  yesterday.  But  you  are  glad  they  are 
here  now,  I  suppose.  That's  enough  to  make  us 
all  happy — What  is  the  reason  that  you  are 
not?" 

"  It  isn't  exactly  being  unhappy,  Oldie.  Do 
you  " — in  his  uneasiness  he  pinched  Duncan's 
ear,  instead  of  stroking  it,  and  the  dog  yelped 
and  leaped  from  his  arms  toward  Edith's  flower 
stand,  upsetting  two  or  three  of  her  choicest 
plants1.  Seeing  this  destruction,  he  gave  him  a 
heavy  blow.  The  dog  cried  piteously  and  hur 
ried  to  the  garden. 

"Why,  Taddie!  How  could  you?  "  exclaimed 
Harold.  "  Such  a  good  creature  as  he  is !  And 
saved  your  life,  probably,  in  those  shut  in  rooms. 
I  thought  you  had  said  something  about  getting 
him  a  collar  with  that  engraved  upon  it." 

Tad's  tears  flowed  fast.    Compunctions  for  his 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  181 

treatment  of  Dun,  whom  he  loved  dearly,  were 
too  much  for  his  sensitive  soul.  He  didn't  see 
the  approach  of  his  father,  whose  kind  hand  was 
on  his  shoulder  before  Harold  could  say  another 
word. 

Mr.  Marston  held  in  one  hand  a  curious  ar 
rangement  of  tubes  and  wires  diverging  from  a 
small  circular  disc,  or  hollow  globe,  of  metal. 
"  Look  up  here,  Taddie  boy.  Why,  what  ails 
you,  my  son?" 

Tad  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  machine  in 
his  father's  hand,  and  turned  very  pale. 

"  Is  this  the  flaming  wheel  you  wrote  me 
about?" 

Tad  still  sobbed,  but  he  managed  to  say — 
"  Mrs.  Sinclair  called  it  something  like  that. 
Please  forgive  me,  papa.  I  didn't  mean  to  be 
doing  wrong.  I — I — I  was  just  finding  out  for 
myself." 

"  I  know  all  about  it,  my  boy.  And  I'm  sure 
I  forgave  you  as  soon  as  I  had  read  what  you 
wrote.  But  what  is  your  trouble  now?  " 

"  I  don't  know — only  I  wish  I  hadn't  struck 
Dun  a  minute  ago.  He  is  so  clever  and  was  so 
kind  that  day  when  he  and  I  got  mixed  up  in  the 
wheel." 

Mr.  Marston  had  placed  the  wheel  against  the 
side  of  the  house.  He  passed  an  arm  around 
Taddie,  and  the  boy  leaned  against  his  father's 


1 82  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

breast,  sobbed  once  more,  and  drawing  a  deep 
sigh,  smiled  in  the  kind  face  bending  over  him. 

"  It's  dreadful  hard  to  want  to  find  out  things 
and  know  you  mustn't — not  till  you're  a  man,  or 
a  great  boy,"  he  said. 

"  Oho !  "  said  Mr.  Marston,  merrily.  "  You'll 
soon  get  beyond  that  trouble.  You've  been  get 
ting  on  famously  toward  being  a  great  boy  while 
I  have  been  away.  I  can  see  that  plainly.  I've 
brought  the  wheel  here  to  examine  more  closely 
by  and  by.  But  I  must  see  what  Brown  and 
Darley  have  been  doing  in  my  absence.  Come 
we'll  go  together  to  the  barn,  and  then  over  to 
the  fields." 

Mr.  Marston's  attention  was  suddenly  called 
toward  a  sort  of  kennel  in  one  of  the  stalls  of 
the  barn  where  Dun  now  lay,  the  dog's  whine 
striking  him  unpleasantly,  because  he  disap 
proved  of  his  company  for  horses  and  cows — 
that  is,  in  the  indoor  life  of  these  animals.  "  I 
can't  have  this  any  longer,"  he  said.  "  As  we 
decided  to  keep  him,  I  ought  to  have  provided 
him  comfortable  sleeping  quarters  elsewhere, 
long  before  now." 

"  Mrs.  Sinclair  has  a  dog's  house,  but  her  dog 
has  died ;  she  told  me  so,  when  Dunnie  and  I  sat 
for  our  pictures  the  first  time."  He  stopped  sud 
denly. — "  Oh !  I  forgot.  I  guess  I  ought  not  to 
have  told  you,  because  that  picture  is  to  be  a  sur- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  183 

prise.  Please  don't  tell  mama,  nor  anybody — 
promise  me,  please." 

The  desired  promise  was  given.  "  I  believe 
going  from  home  has  made  me  childish,  Tad,"  he 
said.  "  I  mustn't  give  way  to  any  more  of  your 
notions.  I  wish  to  see  Brown  and  talk  with 
him.  If  you  can  keep  silent  you  may  stay." 

Tad  hung  his  head.  He  understood  the  re 
proof.  His  father  had  often  checked  his  too 
ready  share  in  conversation. 

Brown  came  forward,  and  then  Darley.  They 
had  been  idling  around  expecting  Mr.  Marston 
would  wish  to  know  something  in  regard  to  Dun 
can's  place  in  the  barn,  and  wouldn't  go  again 
to  their  work  till  they  had  explained  matters. 
It  seemed,  according  to  their  statements,  that 
soon  after  Mr.  Marston  left  home  they  had  sus 
picions  that  some  one  had  a  false  key  to  the 
barn-door.  The  hay  showed  unmistakable  signs 
of  disturbance — as  if  it  had  been  slept  upon  at 
night ;  and  there  was  no  other  way  of  accounting 
for  it,  because  there  were  no  marks  of  entrance 
by  any  other  means.  Besides  this,  Jersey  Nan, 
the  favorite  cow,  had  grown  troublesome  about 
milking — was  especially  uneasy  at  the  morning 
milking.  Brown  first  noticed  these  things.  In 
consultation  with  Darley,  his  suggestions  to 
make  accommodations  there  for  the  dog  met 
with  Darley's  approval.  They  kept  their  sus- 


1 84  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

picions  to  themselves  "  for  fear  of  alarming  the 
women  folks  and  the  children,"  Darley  said. 
But  thought  that  he  Mr.  Marston  ought  to  be 
acquainted  with  them.  Since  the  dog  had  been 
kept  there  nights,  the  hay  had  not  been  dis 
turbed. 

Mr.  Marston  said  they  had  acted  wisely — the 
dog  should  remain  there  for  the  present.  This 
conversation  was  carried  on  in-  very  low  tones. 
It  was  but  natural  that  Taddie  should  listen. 
From  the  few  words  he  could  catch  now  and 
then,  he  only  understood  that  for  some  very 
important  reason  it  was  best  to  keep  Duncan 
in  the  barn.  Then  they  went  over  the  fields — 
spent  the  remainder  of  the  morning  there  and  in 
the  orchard. 

Harold's  great  desire  to  gratify  his  father  by 
showing  how  much  he  was  able  to  do,  led  him 
to  walk  to  the  orchard  just  before  dinner.  Un 
der  a  spreading  apple  tree  Brown  had  placed  a 
rustic  seat.  He  had  longed  to  walk  as  far  as 
that  because  from  that  point  a  pretty  view  of  a 
bend  in  the  river  and  a  few  houses  on  its  oppo 
site  bank  could  be  obaained.  He  accomplished 
the  walk  with  much  less  fatigue  than  he  had  ex 
pected,  and  his  father  and  Tad  were  delighted 
to  see  him  there.  And  he  was  sorry  to  hear  the 
summons1  to  dinner.  But  sending  Tad  in  ad 
vance  to  say  he  would  be  along  soon,  he  took  his 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  185 

father's  advice  to  return  to  the  house.  (They 
walked  slowly  because  of  Harold's  lung  diffi 
culty — rapid  movements  gave  him  hurried,  la 
bored  breathing;  so  he  came  to  the  house  as 
comfortable  as  he  went  from  it.)  As  they  pro 
ceeded  along  his  father  told  him  the  most  im 
portant  particulars'  of  William  Mordaunt's  case. 
By  the  time  they  were  within  hearing  of  the 
rest  of  the  family,  now  assembling  on  the 
veranda,  and  at  the  library  windows,  he  had  a 
clear  idea  of  the  affair. 

"  I  don't  wonder  aunt  Maria  looks  so  sad  and 
has  such  a  mournful  voice,"  Harold  said  when 
his  father  had  finished.  "  But  perhaps  those 
two  clerks  took  the  money  and  contrived  to  lay 
the  blame  on  him.  If  he  has  been  such  a  good 
boy  as  his  mother  says  he  has,  I  can't  think  he'd 
do  such  a  thing.  And  then  Mr.  Doakson  felt  he 
was  so  trustworthy,  and  so  good  every  way." 

"  O  my  son !  you  don't  know,  and  I  trust  you 
never  will  know,  what  straits  betting  and  gam 
bling  and  speculating  bring.  The  temptation 
to  get  money  by  such  means — '  this  once,'  and 
1  this  once  only,'  the  poor  deluded  victim  says 
to  himself,  risking  his  own  lawful  property, — 
sometimes  gaining,  more  often  losing, — draws 
him  unawares,  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  actual 
theft." 


1 86  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  I  suppose  any  other  sport,  if  managed  in  a 
similar  way,  would  be  just  as  bad  as  baseball." 

Certainly.  But  setting  aside  the  immorality 
of  the  betting,  baseball  is  an  objectionable  game 
on  account  of  its  roughness.  Watch  a  game,  and 
see  how  like  beasts — infuriated  beasts — the  con 
testants  beat  and  bruise  each  other.  Disloca 
tions,  fractures,  and  severe  bruises  disable  and 
disfigure — sometimes  for  life — enthusiastic  base 
ball  players.  You  know  very  well  that  I  ap 
prove  of  athletic  sports — but  in  a  reasonable 
way,  and  in  a  manly  consideration  of  the  well- 
being  of  others1.  I  am  glad  to  see  the  croquet 
set  in  use  again.  It  is  a  sensible  diversion  for 
young  or  old,  and  gives  good  healthy  exercise, 
— not  to  encroach  too  much  on  the  hours  of 
study,  however.  Roland  and  Robert  are  so  en 
thusiastic  over  it  to-day,  I'm  afraid  they  thought 
I  should  wink  at  short  studies  for  the  sake  of  its 
benefits." 

He  laughed  and  then  called  to  Robert,  who 
flushed  and  panting  stood  at  the  hall-door.  The 
boy  bounded  over  the  lawn  and  was  instantly  at 
his  side. 

"  How  did  the  game  go?  "  he  asked,  merrily 
patting  the  boy's  shoulder. 

"  Fiist-rate.    Half  and  half,  two  games." 

"Turn  and  turn — eh?  First-rate  indeed. 
Beat  and  let  beat.  That's  the  best  of  play." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  187 

u  Oh !  but  it  was  fair — every  single  knock." 

"We  all  tried" — said  Roland,  who  had  fol 
lowed  Robert. 

"No  doubt,  no  doubt.  Of  course  you  did. 
And  the  lessons?  How  much  study  have  they 
had  to-day?  A  fair  share,  I  hope." 

"  It  was  review — geography.  We  knew  it  all 
— only  had  to  read  it  over  twice,"  said  Bert. 

"  Fortunate,  very, — considering  the  occasion. 
That's  one  of  the  advantages  of  faithfulness  in 
small  things.  Short  lessons  well  learned  make  a 
long  review  easy  you  see." 

Lottie  made  the  best  of  the  remains  of  yester 
day's  dinner.  She  found  the  early  peas,  that 
the  boys  hadn't  expected  to  gather  at  present, 
just  right  for  the  table.  Brown  brought  in  a 
variety  of  vegetables  that  he  had  been  cultivat 
ing,  and  so,  without  need  of  apology,  when  the 
asparagus  and  radishes  were  again  set  forth,  Mr. 
Marston  declared  he  should  like  a  picked-up 
dinner  every  day,  if  it  would  be  like  this. 

"There's  a  Troy  pudding,  too,"  said  Polly, 
"saved  up  from  yesterday.  We  wouldn't  have 
the  least  bit  of  a  taste  of  it  till  you  came." 

"  Heroic  self-denial  in  you  all,  I'm  sure,"  he 
rejoined.  "  I  don't  know  but  we  might  dispense 
with  the  pudding  sauce,  having  such  sweet 
thoughts  to  grace  it." 

"  These   vegetables   grandmother   thinks   are 


i88  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

1  worth  while,' "  said  Roland,  with  an  arch  look 
toward  the  old  lady. 

"  That  can't  be  said  of  all  vegetables,"  re 
turned  his  father.  "  These  pay  you  well  for  the 
time  and  work  they  have  cost  you.  I'm  proud 
to  see  such  a  fine  display — the  result  of  your 
skill  and  care." 

"  Don't  you  think  gardening  might  be  exer 
cise  enough  without  gymnastics?"  said  Roland, 
timidly. 

All  eyes  were  fixed  on  Mr.  Marston.  It  was 
an  important  question,  and  nearly  every  one  at 
the  table  was  interested  to  know  his  opinion  of 
the  matter. 

"  No,  oh,  no,"  he  said,  with  great  decision  in 
his  tones.  "  Gardening  is  good  exercise,  but  it 
brings  only  a  certain  portion  of  the  muscles  into 
play ;  and  these  are  too  often  exercised  to  excess, 
while  others  suffer  for  the  want  of  exercise.  I 
see  that  Roland's  right  shoulder  is  higher  than 
the  left.  The  muscles  of  that  arm  and  shoulder 
have  had  more  exercise  (consequently  are  more 
developed)  than  those  of  his  left?  What  we 
want  is  equal  exercise  for  both;  and  this  can't 
be  obtained  in  gardening.  Yet  gardening  is 
good,  and  with  that  we'll  have  the  exercises  that 
develop  all  parts  of  the  body  equally." 

"  Mr.  Parks  says  every  family  ought  to  have 
a  gymnasium,"  said  Robert,  "  to  keep  the  body 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  189 

healthy,  and  if  we  want  healthy  and  strong 
minds,  we  must  try  to  have  healthy  bodies." 

"  He  is  right.  I  believe  there  would  be  less 
bad  behavior,  less  wrong-doing  in  the  world,  if 
people  had  more  healthy  'minds.  And  moral,  as 
well  as  mental,  health  is  closely  connected  with 
that  of  the  body.  I  think  I  must  look  after  that 
left  shoulder  of  yours1,  Roland.  You  and  I  will 
have  a  course  of  dumb  bells  and  Indian  clubs 
together  every  evening." 

Mr.  Sterling,  the  minister,  was  announced,  so 
all  adjourned  ao  the  parlor.  He  had  asked  for 
Harold,  not  aware  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marston 
had  returned.  He  was  about  to  form  a  class  of 
lads  for  botanizing  and  geologizing  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  and  hoped  he  was  well  enough  to  join 
them.  Their  exercises  would  probably  be  inter 
esting.  Harold's  face  brighaened  at  the  mention 
of  such  a  class.  He  looked  imploringly  to  his 
father  who  gave  no  sign. 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,  sir,"  Harold  replied. 
"  I  should  enjoy  the  excursions,  but  really,  I 
could  not  undertake  to  do  what  would  be  re 
quired.  Perhaps  by  and  by  I  may  be  strong 
enough.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  hear  what  the 
class  do  or  discover." 

"  Why  not  be  one  of  the  class  and  yet  stay  at 
home?"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "You  might  not 


190  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

find  it  too  fatiguing  to  examine  and  classify 
specimens  that  the  others  procure." 

"Certainly.  I  could  do  that,"  said  Harold, 
turning  to  Mr.  Sterling.  "  If  young  ladies  might 
join,  Edith  would  like  it,  I  think." 

"  These  lads  prefer  to  be  by  themselves,"  he 
returned,  smiling  affably.  "  I  believe  Sophia, 
my  daughter,  would  be  glad  to  have  your  sister's 
company  in  the  walks  that  she  takes  for  discov 
ering  some  of  the  beauty  that  Nature  keeps  for 
those  who  seek  for  it  on  these  hills  and  along  the 
riverside." 

A  long  conversation  followed  between  him  and 
Mr.  Marston  as  to  the  resources  of  this  part  of 
the  state,  and  the  relative  value  of  property  in 
New  England  and  the  Western  States;  which 
gradually  led  to  the  discussion  of  morals  and  re 
ligion  and  their  present  status  in  those  two  por 
tions  of  the  country  in  comparison  with  their 
wealth  and  increase  of  population.  Before  he 
left  he  said  Mr.  Marston's  proposal  that  Harold 
be  a  stay-at-home  member  of  the  class,  he  would 
present  for  immediate  action  and  had  little 
doubt  of  its  acceptance. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  191 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  HAPPY  EVENING. 

MR.  MARSTON  'had  been  examining  the  wheel 
of  flame — its  disc  (or  was  it  hollow — a  flattened 
globe?  he  wondered)  its  tubes  and  wires,  with 
all  his  boys  around  him  to  offer  hints  and  con 
jectures.  Now,  he  wanted  his  wife's  opinion  of 
the  machine,  and  sent  Tad  to  tell  her  so.  This 
led  to  a  gathering  of  the  rest  of  the  family. 

"  Don't  go  too  near,  Polly,  was  Mrs.  Marston's 
cautious  direction,  as  the  eager  girl  was  making 
her  way  in  advance  of  Harold.  "  We  don't  un 
derstand  it,  and  it  may  do  you  harm." 

Her  husband  smiled.  "  Most  likely  it  has  ex 
hausted  itself  years  ago.  Perhaps  in  the  fire 
that  it  caused,  of  which  Mrs.  Sinclair  told  you," 
he  said. 

The  metal  of  which  the  curious  wheel-like 
thing  was  composed,  showed  plainly  the  effects 
of  heat  in  stains  and  smut,  and  the  wires  con 
necting  the  tubes  were  in  several  places  nearly 
burned  off.  "  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Mars- 
ton,  "  that  it  was  moved  by  electricity.  A  bat 
tery  stored  in  this  tube  (here  he  laid  his  hand 


192  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

on  the  centre-piece)  conveyed  the  fluid  through 
the  tubes  to  the  wire  that  served  as  a  felloe,  and 
also  along  these  other  wires  that  evidently  con 
nected  the  wheel  with  something — a  carriage, 
we'll  say — for  the  purpose  of  propelling  it.  But 
I  don't  understand  the  need  of  the  tubes.  How 
does  my  explanation  strike  you,  Mary?" 

"  It  seems  reasonable,"  she  replied.  "  But  I 
know  very  little  about  electricity.  You  are  sure 
the  machine  is  perfectly  harmless,  now?  " 

"  O  yes,  indeed !  Probably  it  collapsed  com 
pletely  in  that  fire." 

"  I  wish  Mr.  Goodwin  could  see  it.  He  knows 
a  great  deal  about  machines,"  said  Bert. 

"  And  about  electricity,  too,"  said  Roland. 

"  Why  can't  Tom  go  to  Mr.  Goodwin's  shop 
some  day  and  ask  him  to  come  home  with  him 
and  see  it?"  inquired  Taddie. 

"  He  can,  and  he  may.  Mr.  Goodwin  is  such 
an  intelligent  man,  he  would  be  pleased  to  see 
the  'concern,  I've  no  doubt.  And  I  should  be 
glad  to  know  what  he  would  think  of  it,"  replied 
his  father. 

Then  there  was  a  little  more  talk  about  the 
wheel  and  Mrs.  Marston  asked  her  husband  if 
he  intended  to  clear  these  two  rooms.  He  said 
he  hadn't  yet  fully  made  up  his  mind — had  some 
idea  of  letting  them  remain  for  the  present.  If 
not  disturbed,  their  contents  would  do  no  harm. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  193 

Perhaps  if  Mr.  Goodwin  came  he  could  suggest 
an  advantageous  disposal  of  the  most  valuable 
of  the  instruments  and  tools,  if  not  of  the  chemi 
cals.  He  should  return  the  wheel  to  its  place. 
He  soon  took  it  there  and  then  had  something  to 
say  about  Mr.  Sterling's  class  in  botany  and 
geology — hoped  a  knowledge  of  the  geology  of 
the  neighborhood  would  lead  the  class  to  study 
its  mineral  resurces,  and  asked  Harold  if  any 
more  specimens  indicating  silver  and  gold — like 
that  shown  him  the  day  before  he  started  for 
Denver,  had  been  found  recently. 

From  this  the  talk  drifted  to  school  studies, 
and  he  took  Polly  on  his  knee  and  silently  ex 
amined  her  unfortunate  nose.  "  It  seems  to  be 
all  right  now,"  said  grandmother.  "  A  slight 
accident  yesterday  gave  it  a  threatening  look  for 
a  while,  but  did  no  real  damage." 

"  Then  it  is  time  to  think  of  going  again  to 
school.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  little  daugh 
ter?  " 

Polly  smiled  a  delighted  assent — she  would  go 
the  very  next  morning.  Kuth  begged  to  accom 
pany  her.  After  a  little  demur,  because  of  the 
care  and  trouble  the  baby  might  be  in  her  ab 
sence,  Mrs.  Mordaunt  gave  a  reluctant  assent. 

Roland  had  been  uneasy  while  these  questions 
were  getting  a  decision.  He  could  hold  his  peace 
no  longer.  To-morrow  was  the  Public,  when  he 


194  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

would  be  one  of  the  readers,  and  ever  since 
Polly's  nose  began  to  get  better  he  had  kept  in 
mind  what  had  been  said — that  she  would  be 
present  at  the  Reading.  And  he  had  depended 
on  it,  because  he  wanted  to  know  how  his  read 
ing  compared  with  that  of  a  boy  in  the  class  be 
low  him. 

On  this  account  Mr.  Marston  said  both  she 
and  Ruth  might  attend  the  Public  and  defer  go 
ing  to  Miss  Leonard's  room  till  the  following 
day. 

Edith's  request  came  next.  If  her  mother 
would  spare  her  she  would  like  to  begin  going  to 
Hillsford  to  continue  her  studies  in  the  High 
school  there.  She  hoped  she  hadn't  lost  her 
place  in  her  classes  by  being  so  long  absent. 
Her  father  inquired  how  much  time  she  had 
given  to  mathematics  in  his  absence.  She  gave 
him  a  satisfactory  answer  and  was  made  happy 
when  he  said  she  needn't  lose  another  day.  If 
her  mother  needed  more  help  he  would  provide 
it,  somehow,  and  Mrs.  Mordaunt  said  hurriedly 
that  she  should  feel  offended  if  not  allowed  to 
assist  in  housekeeping;  as  she  was  now  well 
enough  to  do  a  great  deal.  And  then  Edith  went 
to  the  piano  and  they  all  gathered  around  her 
and  sang  their  father's  favorite  songs.  The 
evening  hymn  closed  the  music.  The  younger 
children  went  to  their  rooms.  Grandmother 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  195 

soon  followed  their  example.  The  rest  of  the 
family  sat  a  few  minutes1,  talking  over  the  events 
of  the  day.  And  they,  too,  retired  in  peace  and 
quiet  happiness  that  brought  refreshing  sleep. 
Edith  was  so  delighted  with  the  thought  of 
going  once  more  to  school,  meeting  her  friends 
there,  and  resuming  studies  in  their  company 
that  she  rose  early,  and  performed  many  little 
duties,  that  she  might  have  left  for  her  aunt 
Maria  to  do,  Mrs.  Mordaunt  afterward  said. 
But  Edith  was  one  of  those  rare  natures  that 
would  rather  spend  themselves  in  the  small  con 
cerns  of  life,  even  if  unnoticed  and  unappreci 
ated,  than  know  that  other  persons  might  be  in 
convenienced  by  their  omission.  And  she  never 
spared  her  own  pains  if  anything  unpleasant  re 
quired  attention.  The  most  disagreeable  duty 
was  always  the  first  to  be  accomplished.  These 
characteristics  she  had  in  measure  inherited 
from  her  mother.  From  her  father  a  strong  will 
kept  well  in  control,  and  unflinching  persever 
ance.  Added  to  these  she  had  attained  to  such 
quiet  self-control  that  feeling  was  made  subser 
vient  to  conviction,  and  a  complete  subjection 
to  principle  dictated  and  governed  her  daily 
conduct.  With  these,  she  also  possessed  a  buoy 
ant,  sunny  temperament  that  made  light  of  the 
ills  and  disappointments  of  life.  No  wonder 
that  she  was  a  favorite  with  all  who  claimed  her 
acquaintance. 


196  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

She  had  a  warm  welcome  from  her  teachers, 
a  most  joyous  greeting  from  her  classmates ;  and 
returned  home  with  Tom  and  her  father  in  the 
afternoon,  overflowing  with  happy  merriment, — 
for  the  class  had  begged  to  be  put  back  a  few  les 
sons  in  order  that  she  might  go  on  easily  with 
them;  and  the  teachers  had  approved  the  move 
ment.  Further,  they  promised,  now  that  she 
would  be  with  them,  beginning  a  new  study — a 
series  of  observations  of  the  events  transpiring 
around  them,  and  the  suggestions  they  awak 
ened  ;  to  be  reported  daily. 

"  A  most  excellent  study,"  said  her  father. 
"  You  will  find  the  knowledge  of  human  nature 
thus  gained,  invaluable.  Book  knowledge  is  of 
small  worth,  in  comparison,  as  you  will  soon 
find." 

Tom  had  seen  Mr.  Goodwin.  He  accepted  the 
invitation  and  Barley  was  to  drive  down  after 
working  hours  to  bring  him.  And  Tom  was  sur 
prised  to  find  Mr.  Goodwin  so  intelligent,  and, 
— "  Such  a  gentleman,  father !  I  know  Roland 
and  Kob  used  to  think  nobody  could  know  so 
much  as  he.  But  I  hadn't  the  least  idea  that  he 
could  be  so  agreeable." 

"  There's  nothing  very  remarkable  in  that," 
said  Mr.  Marston.  "  Let  a  man,  no  matter  what 
his  occupation,  determine  to  make  the  best  of 
his  abilities  and  opportunities,  and  keep  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  197 

Golden  Rule  for  his  guide  in  his  transactions, 
and  his  intercourse  with  others,  and  he  is  a  true 
gentleman,  can't  be  otherwise.  It  results  as 
naturally  as  sweetness  and  beauty  from  the 
brown  seeds  that  push  their  growth  through 
darkness  and  dampness,  gaining  more  and  more 
of  their  higher  life  through  their  exercise  to 
reach  the  sunshine,  yet  all  the  while  unconscious 
of  that  sweetness  and  beauty  which  is  unmistak 
ably  theirs." 

Roland  and  Robert,  expecting  Mr.  Goodwin, 
and  alert  to  know  who  came  home  in  the  buggy, 
were  disposed  to  complain  when  he  didn't  alight. 

"  Of  course  he  wasn't  going  to  waste  several 
good  daylight  hours,  that  he  could  fill  with 
valuable  work,  just  for  the  sake  of  looking  at 
that  ugly  contrivance,"  said  Tom.  "  Do  give  the 
man  credit  for  possessing  common  sense." 

"And  prudence  and  good  judgment,"  added 
Harold. 

"  Granted,"  said  Tom.  "  Try  to  be  patient  a 
little  longer,  boys.  He  will  work  till  six  o'clock. 
Then  he  is  coming." 

When  they  found  Darley  was  to  go  for  him 
after  six  they  begged  leave  to  go  too.  There 
would  be  plenty  of  room  in  the  buggy,  so  there 
could  be  no  objection.  They  made  the  shortest 
dinner  for  months,  and  long  before  others*  were 
ready  to  rise,  were  excused,  and  then  they  hur- 


198  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ried  Darley  so  that  they  set  off  on  the  stroke 
of  six. 

Mr.  Marston  brought  the  wheel  forward  again, 
placed  it  at  the  end  of  the  veranda  that  it  might 
get  all  the  light  possible,  now  that  day  was  decli 
ning.  Then  he  moved  near  it  the  lounge  and 
Harold's  reclining  chair, — "We'll  be  as  com 
fortable  and  as  cosy  as  possible,"  he  said. 

Pauline  had  been  trying  to  get  a  good  oppor 
tunity  to  tell  something  about  the  Public,  and  of 
the  readings — Roland's  in  particular.  But  so 
many  different  persons  had  desired  her  father's 
attention  to  matters  considered  more  important, 
that  she  had  waited  patiently.  Now  she  thought 
he  had  leisure  to  listen  to  her,  for  he  moved  Har 
old's  spruce  pillow  and  stretched  himself  on  the 
lounge.  Tad  had  called  Duncan  for  a  frolic  and 
to  show  some  of  the  tricks  he  had  been  recently 
taught  They  came  jumping  and  springing  close 
to  his  father's  side  before  Polly  could  say  a 
word.  And  then  she  saw  a  lady  walking  lei 
surely  up  the  front  terrace,  "  Miss  Leonard ! " 
she  exclaimed  rapturously,  and  ran  to  meet  her. 

Miss  Leonard  preferred  to  remain  on  the  ve 
randa.  She  could  have  the  coolness  of  the  west 
ern  breeze  there,  and  the  beauty  of  the  sunset 
sky.  So  while  Taddie  arranged  a  hassock  for 
Miss  Leonard's  feet,  Polly  went  for  her  mother 
and  aunt  Maria.  Grandmother  had  come  just 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  199 

before,  and  busied  herself  in  arranging  chairs. 

Miss  Leonard  was  glad  to  find  Polly  so  far 
recovered  from  her  accident,  and  pleased  to 
know  she  would  be  in  school  the  next  day.  She 
asked  her  what  insects  she  had  found  interesting 
lately,  and  if  she  and  Tad  had  cracked  any  stones 
and  found  any  crystals.  Polly  and  Tad,  too, 
were  rather  ashamed  to  say  they  had  had  no  time 
for  finding  stones  and  insects.  "  You'll  find  the 
time,"  she  said,  smiling,  "  when  I  request  you  to 
find  them  for  me — I  know  you  will ; "  and  both 
Tad  and  Polly  said  they  would  try. 

Mr.  Marston  mentioned  the  stone  found  in 
the  pine  grove,  and  enquired  if  any  minerals  of 
value  had  been  discovered  in  Pippoton.  She 
had  heard  that  Mr.  Hamilton's  son,  the  doctor, 
once  circulated  a  wild  story  about  the  silver  in 
some  portion  of  his  father's  estate.  Yet  he  was 
such  a  visionary  man,  scarcely  any  one  had  faith 
in  what  he  said.  They  were  talking  about  him 
when  Darley  drove  up. 

Mr.  Goodwin  seemed  delighted  to  see  Miss 
Leonard,  but  he  received  the  greetings  of  all 
the  others  before  speaking  to  her. 

She,  covered  with  blushes,  at  the  first  glimpse 
of  his  face,  looked  around  uneasily,  and  lapsed 
into  silence.  Bert  and  Roland  were  very  happy. 
They  had  chatted  all  the  way  home ;  telling  him 
all  manner  of  things  relating  to  Pleasant  Hill 


200  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and  it®  neighborhood;  and  the  most  marvellous 
account  of  Taddie's  misadventure  in  the  shut-in 
room. 

"  So  this  is  the  wheel  of  flame,"  Mr.  Goodwin 
said,  after  a  little  pleasant  talk  with  the  ladies 
and  Harold.  He  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  went 
toward  it. 

"  It  seems  a  simple  affair  enough,  if  one  might 
consider  it  complete,"  said  Mr.  Marston.    "  Yes, 
yes,"  returned  Mr.  Goodwin  deliberately. 
"  The  copper  and  the  zinc  suggest  electricity — 
galvanic,  chemical." 

"  And  the  disc  in  the  centre  may  have  served 
for  generator? "  asked  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Perhaps.  I  see  there  are  tubes  within  these 
tubes.  And  the  rods,  wires1,  are  copper.  It  has 
been  in  a  state  of  fusion,  I  should  judge;  of 
great  heat,  certainly.  The  irregularities  in  some 
of  the  tubes  and  the  discolorations  look  like  the 
effects  of  heat" 

"  It  was  found  in  what  has  been  called  the 
burnt  room.  Whether  the  wheel  caused  the 
burning,  or  was  merely  a  sufferer  from  it,  I 
haven't  yet  discovered,  but  would  like  to  know." 

"  It  was  more  likely  the  cause,  I  think,  and 
must  have  been  invented  to  produce  or  to  con 
vey  power  for  operating  some  mechanical  work. 
— What  a  marvellous  force  electricity  is !  " 

Mr.  Marston  told  all  he  knew  of  the  shut-in 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  201 

rooms  and  of  the  young  lad  who  had  experi 
mented  there.  Mr.  Goodwin  thanked  him  for 
the  information,  and  for  the  privilege  of  examin 
ing  the  wheel  and  said  he  must  look  up  the  sub 
ject  of  electricity  and  satisfy  himself  whether 
these  conjectures  in  regard  to  the  purpose  of 
the  wheel  were  correct.  "  It  is  a  fine  concep 
tion,"  he  said  "  this  wheel,  if  we  are  right  in  our 
conjectures;  a  motive  power  distributing  its 
energies  to  promote  some  worthy  enterprise. 
The  wheel  with  its  numerous  spokes  (the  tubes) 
fulfilling  the  mission  of  the  force  hidden  in  the 
hub.  Did  you  ever  think,  sir,  of  electricity  as 
a  symbol  of  life?  " 

Mr.  Marston  said  he  had  not,  but  could  now 
see  that  the  comparison  was  apt. 

"  It  is  light  and  heat  and  power  and  sweet 
ness  ;  beneficial,  or  the  contrary,  according  as  it 
is  managed  and  controlled.  Blessed  and  bless 
ing  if  properly  used  and  employed,  but  danger 
ous,  causing  harm  and  hurt,  when  carelessly 
or  thoughtlessly  used." 

"  You  see,"  he  added,  with  a  quiet  little  laugh, 
"  my  occupation  gives  opportunity  for  musing 
and  meditation.  Now,  here,  I  see  in  this  center, 
the  hub,  a  likeness  to  the  head  of  a  family,  the 
parents;  the  tubes,  diverging  thence,  are  the 
members  of  that  family,  the  children.  Whatever 
has  chief  place  is  cherished  and  treasured  in 


202  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

the  heart  of  the  parents  and  must  pass  like  the 
electric  current  through  the  lives  of  the  children. 
The  light,  the  warmth,  the  power,  the  sweetness 
of  the  parents'  lives,  properly  controlled  and 
managed,  involuntarily  invigorate  the  children's 
hearts  and  consciences,  rendering  their  lives  also 
bright  and  sweet  and  strong  for  all  noble  effort ; 
and  for  conveying  the  same  to  the  community 
"  (here  he  touched  the  wires  and  the  felloe)  sur 
rounding  them.  And  the  force  passes  thence, 
— as  was  probably  the  intention  of  the  inventor 
here — in  regard  to  the  electric  force, — passes  on 
ward,  helping  and  urging  their  fellows, — the 
whole  human  race,  toward  the  attainment  of 
virtue  and  all  noble  living.  A  sure  progress, 
though  at  times  imperceptible,  except  by  its 
results." 

"  You  must  enjoy  carpentering,  if  it  brings 
you  such  thoughts,"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "  I  am 
afraid  few  of  the  craft  get  the  good  out  of  it  that 
you  do." 

Mr.  Goodwin  smiled.  "  It  is  well  to  think 
upon  these  things;  but  my  mind  is  too  frequently 
employed  on  matters  of  less  importance.  For 
instance,  I  recollect  that  Roland  once  asked  me 
how  to  make  a  snare  for  catching  partridges. 
You'll  find  them  in  the  woods  near  here  by  and 
by,  and  I  may  as  well  show  him  how  to  make 
something  of  the  kind  now." 


"So  this  is  the  whei'l  of  flame,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  203 

"Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you!"  said  Roland, 
grasping  Mr.  Goodwin's  hand  and  answering  the 
merry  light  in  Mr.  Goodwin's  eyes  with  a  joyous 
gleam  in  his  own. 

"  I  have  felt  very  grateful  to  you,  sir,"  said 
Mr.  Marston,  "  for  interesting  and  amusing 
these  boys  of  mine.  I  hope  they  haven't  been  a 
serious  annoyance  to  you,  ever." 

"  Oh,  no!  it  has  been  a  pleasure  to  have  their 
company  occasionally.  Since  you  left  Hillsford 
I  have  missed  them  more  than  I  care  to  tell.  I 
hope  they'll  come  to  me  as  often  as  they  can 
spare  an  hour  or  so.  Just  now  if  Robert  will 
get  some  stout  string  and  Roland  narrow  strips 
of  thin  pine  board,  I'll  set  them  up  for  the  par 
tridge  business  in  the  August  vacation." 

The  boys  darted  off  and  soon  returned  with 
the  desired  materials. 

"  It  takes  so  little  to  amuse  growing  boys  and 
to  arouse  their  ambition  for  excelling  in  manly 
pursuits,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Goodwin  as  they  came 
toward  him.  "  We'll  have  a  simple  one,  a  line 
snare,"  he  continued,  "  for  the  first,"  stepping 
to  the  driveway.  All  the  children  followed  him 
and  then  silently  watched  what  he  did  with  the 
cord  and  strips  of  board. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marston  exchanged  glances  of 
amusement.  Grandmother  began  a  conversa 
tion  with  Miss  Leonard  who  had  remained  near 


204  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Harold  listening  modestly  to  the  talk  between 
Mr.  Marston  and  his  guest,  showing  her  interest 
by  a  glance  now  and  then  towards  Mr.  Goodwin, 
which  was  duly  returned  by  him. 

Just  as  Robert  had  whittled  two  stout  stakes 
and  was  helping  Roland  to  fasten  the  cord  to 
them,  Taddie  was  sent  to  the  barn  to  find  a  few 
long  horse-hairs.  He  came  back  presently  with 
several  which  Mr.  Goodwin  pronounced  just  the 
thing,  as  he  showed  the  boys  how  to  make  a 
noose  of  a  horse-hair  and  fastened  several  along 
the  line  and  then  by  means  of  the  stakes 
stretched  the  line  straight  and  firmly  to  the 
ground.  He  showed  them  next  how  to  scatter 
the  corn;  and  said  they  mustn't  allow  a  par 
tridge  to  remain  long  in  the  noose,  but  must  have 
a  basket,  or  paper  box  to  put  over  him  and  take 
him  home.  Of  course  they  would  watch  the 
snare  closely. 

"  Cruel  business,  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Edith, 
who  had  joined  the  group  and  stood  watching 
the  boys  take  up  the  line  and  fold  it  to  place 
away  for  safe  keeping. 

Then  he  showed  them,  by  taking  a  long  willow 
wand  and  a  string  with  a  slipnoose  how  to  make 
an  arch  snare.  The  pointed  ends  of  the  willow 
stick  inserted  in  the  ground  made  the  arch,  from 
the  center  of  which  the  slipnoose  was  suspended. 
Half  a  dozen  of  these,  he  said,  he  once  set  up 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  205 

within  an  enclosure  made  of  short  sticks  form 
ing  a  low  fence,  and  caught  a  partridge  in  each. 
He  said  he  supposed  they  knew  how  to  make  a 
figure  four  trap.  Taddie  did  not.  So  with 
three  strips  of  pine,  a  broad  piece  of  board  for 
its  floor,  and  a  wooden  box  arranged  to  fall  over 
and  keep  the  quails  or  rabbits  when  they  set 
foot  upon  the  floor,  he  soon  made  it  plain. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  have  been  too  obliging,"  said 
Mr.  Marston,  as  he  saw  the  boys  carrying  the 
trap  and  the  materials  for  the  snares  to  the 
barn.  It  won't  do  to  take  all  the  game  from  the 
woods." 

"  Of  course  you  are  not  in  earnest,"  said  Mr. 
Goodwin.  You  must  undestand  boy  nature 
pretty  thoroughly,  I  think,  and  know  that  there 
is  more  pleasure  in  making  and  setting  traps 
and  snares  than  in  securing  the  game;  and  the 
variety  of  them  enhances  the  enjoyment.  I 
doubt  if  with  a  dozen  snares  and  traps  they  will 
bag  one-third  that  number.  The  story  that  I 
told  them  was  my  very  best  experience  in  nearly 
a  dozen  years." 

As  he  spoke  Mr.  Goodwin  drew  a  chair  to  Miss 
Leonard's  side.  "  I  was  not  aware  before  that 
you  were  friends,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  signifi 
cantly,  coming  up  behind  them. 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  told  you  so  when  I 
first  arrived,"  observed  Mr.  Goodwin.  "  But  I 


206  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

was  eager  to  examine  the  wheel,  and  so  forgot 
the  politeness  due  both  to  Miss  Leonard  and 
yourself." 

u  And  I,  perhaps,  should  have  stated  the 
object  of  my  call,"  remarked  Miss  Leonard. 

The  boys  had  returned  from  the  barn — were 
arranging  themselves  against  the  ballustrade  of 
the  piazza.  "  Taddie,  step  this  way  and  state 
your  case,"  said  his  father. 

"  I  don't  understand.  What  is  my  case? " 
said  Taddie.  "  Please  tell  me  what  you  mean  by 
state.  If  it's  something  about  definitions,  I  hope 
I'm  going  to  learn  them  soon." 

"  That  is  the  state  of  the  case,  exactly,"  said 
Miss  Leonard,  very  kindly.  She  had  a  low, 
musical  voice  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  hear. 
After  a  moments  pause,  she  continued,  "  I  think 
he  can  understand  and  learn  the  meaning  of  our 
most  common  words."  She  seemed  to  be  weigh 
ing  what  she  had  to  say,  and  wished  to  be  as  ex 
plicit  as  possible.  "  From  those  he  will  go  on 
to  others  more  difficult."  Again  a  pause.  "  I 
find  he  is  interested  in  the  recitations  of  the 
higher  classes;  so  without  doubt,  will  enjoy  the 
study." 

"  You  are  the  best  judge  of  his  attainments 
and  of  his  abilities  in  that  direction.  Since  you 
approve,  the  boy's  wish  shall  be  gratified.  Do 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  207 

you  hear  that?  Do  you  know  what  gratified 
means?" 

Taddie  stood  at  his  father's  side.  He  looked 
up,  in  a  tremor  of  hope,  and  began  to  stammer. 
But  he  checked  himself  resolutely  and  said 
slowly.  "  It  means  made  happy,  I  suppose.  It 
is  what  grandma  says  sometimes,  when  we  talk 
together  about  what  I  mean  to  do  when  I  am  a 
man." 

"  That  will  do,  it  is  a  good  answer,  my  son," 
said  Mr.  Marston,  smoothing  Tad's  obstinate 
forelocks  into  rather  better  order  about  his  ears. 
"  I  suppose  you  know,  Miss  Leonard,  what  has 
caused  the  dearth  of  this  crop? "  he  nodded 
meaningly  toward  the  bald  spots  on  the  boy's 
head. 

She  smiled,  and  nodded  also.  "  Affection  re 
quires  great  sacrifices  sometimes,"  she  said. 

"Was  it  because  my  hair  was  red?"  asked 
Taddie  mournfully — "  the  sacrifice,  I  mean." 

"  Oh,  no !  Why  do  you  ask  that?  "  said  his 
mother. 

"  Because,  because,  you  have  to  have  fire. 
They  did — in  the  Bible,  Abraham  and  those  old 
men,  to  make  a  sacrifice.  And  the  boys  at  school 
touch  my  hair  and  say  it  burns, — and  I  wish 
they  wouldn't." 

"  I  will  see  that  they  don't  do  it  again,"  said 


208  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Miss  Leonard.  "  I  wish  you  had  told  me  of  it 
before  now,  Thaddeus.' 

"  Then  they  would  have  called  me  a  sneak ; — 
and  I  don't  like  that  either." 

The  beautiful  June  twilight  was  now  getting 
sombre.  Save  for  the  presence  of  Jupiter  gleam 
ing  from  the  southern  sky,  and  Venus  just  above 
the  western  horrizon,  dimness  obscured  the 
heavens. 

"  Night  is  coming  on,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin,  ris 
ing  and  beginning  to  make  his  adieus. 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "  Darley 
is  expecting  to  drive  you  home.  If  Miss  Leonard 
must  leave  now,  he  will  take  her  also." 

Miss  Leonard  was  talking  with  Mrs.  Mor- 
daunt  and  Kuth  about  coming  to  school.  "  O 
thank  you,  sir,  but  I  will  walk,"  she  said.  I  de 
ferred  taking  my  constitutional  till  after  this 
call." 

"  And  I  will  take  it  with  her,"  said  Mr.  Good 
win.  I  am  used  to  walking;  frequently  of  an 
evening  walk  to  Pippoton  Centre  and  home 
again. 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Mr.  Marston  with  the  air  of 
one  who  has  made  a  pleasant  discovery.  "  By 
the  way,"  he  continued,  as  if  wishing  to  turn  the 
conversation — for  Miss  Leonard  now  appeared 
embarrassed,  "  what  do  you  think  of  the  strike 
at  Moody's?  " 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  209 

"  A  very  foolish  thing.  Moody  has  had  much 
to  contend  with  in  the  competition  of  the  past 
year.  He  has  done  the  best  he  could  for  his 
employees — kept  them  at  work  through  all  the 
dull  season.  And  this  is  all  the  thanks  he  gets. 
I  sometimes  think  that  the  generality  of  people 
never  know  anything  about  the  feeling  of  grati 
tude." 

"  But,  it  is  true  that  he  reduced  their  wages 
about  a  month  ago?" 

"  Yes,  and  it  was  understood  by  all,  except 
those  who  are  wilfully  stupid,  that  it  was  only 
for  a  while.  That  is  better  than  no  work  and 
no  pay  at  all.  If  they  will  give  him  time,  he  will 
restore  the  old  pay.  The  worst  of  it  is  this 
strike  has  led  to  grumbling  at  Wood's  and  at 
Stimpson's.  Nelson,  I  hear,  has  fear  of  its  ef 
fects  on  his  men." 

"  Ah !  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  Nelson  has 
been  very  successful.  And  I  believe  he  is  strictly 
honest  too." 

"Perfectly — I've  no  doubt.  And  one  of  the 
most  honorable  men  in  town.  His  new  house  is 
made  a  pretext  for  complaint.  Envy  is  at  the 
bottom  of  most  of  this  trouble,  it  seems  to  me." 

Miss  Leonard  was  waiting  to  bid  Mr.  Marston 
good  night.  There  was  a  hasty  shaking  of 
hands,  and  Mr.  Goodwin  and  Miss  Leonard  set 
off  together. 


210  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  He  told  us  one  day  he  had  a  friend  up  here," 
said  Roland.  "  I  didn't  suppose  we  should  know 
who  the  friend  was." 

"  Isn't  it  nice  to  know  the  friend  is  Miss  Leon 
ard?  "  said  Robert.  "  She  is  just  as  nice  a  lady 
as  he's  a — man." 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  gentleman?  He  is  one, 
I'm  sure,"  said  Tom. 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  said  his  father.  "  I  am  sur 
prised  to  see  how  sensible,  and  how  well  in 
formed,  he  is.  He  has  had  few  advantages  for 
education,  but  he  has  improved  them  to  the  ut 
most,  that  is  very  evident." 

"  He  has  learned  a  great  deal  from  careful 
observation,  I  think,"  remarked  Mrs.  Marston. 
"  I  was  convinced  of  that  by  his  examination  of 
the  wheel." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  211 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ADDITIONS  TO  THE  MAKSTON  FAMILY. 

MR.  HOWARD  had  not  expected  Mr.  Marston's 
return  so  soon.  It  had  been  agreed  that  no  let 
ters  should  pass  between  them,  except  in  the 
event  of  some  occurrence  notably  disastrous. 
Mr.  Marston  had  ben  agreeably  surprised  to  find 
how  easily  his  sister's  affairs  could  be  managed, 
and  how  soon  he  could  take  the  homeward  jour 
ney. 

Trade  had  suddenly  increased.  Mr.  Howard 
was  extremely  busy,  and  very  glad  to  see  Mr. 
Marston,  and  all  day  long  they  kept  the  packers 
and  shippers  nimbly  employed  in  fulfilling  or 
ders.  In  the  afternoon  a  large  quantity  of  jute 
was  received.  This  led  Mr.  Marston  to  inquire 
when  the  last  Calcutta  mail  was  in  hand.  Mr. 
Howard  mentioned  the  date.  "  Nothing  then 
from  my  brother,  I  suppose,  or  you  would  have 
forwarded  it  to  Pleasant  Hill."  Mr.  Howard  as 
sented. 

"  I  don't  understand  his  long  silence,"  ob- 


212  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

served  Mr.  Marston.  "  Nothing  came  from  him 
in  the  last  mail  before  I  left.  That  was  strange, 
I  thought." 

"  We  ought  to  have  a  mail  from  there  to-night 
or  to-morrow.  Very  likely  you'll  hear  something 
by  that." 

"  I  hope  the  difficulty  among  the  Hong  Kong 
merchants  hasn't  affected  him.  I  can't  help 
feeling  concerned  when  I  consider  how  long  it  is 
since  he  wrote  last." 

"  Now,  Marston,  look  here,"  said  Mr.  Howard, 
putting  his  thumbs  into  the  armholes  of  his 
vest,  and  striding  toward  the  desk  against  which 
his  partner  was  leaning  dejectedly,  "  haven't  you 
enough  on  your  shoulders  without  borrowing  a 
burden  from  him?  You  just  go  home  and  make 
yourself  easy;  and  come  down  here  to-morrow 
without  those  hideous  lines  in  your  forehead  and 
cheeks  that  you've  been  getting.  Why!  man 
alive,  you'll  look  worse  than  a  South  Sea  Is 
lander  in  less  than  a  week  if  you  let  Care  tattoo 
you  like  that." 

Mr.  Marston  laughed.  But  it  was  not  the 
merry  laugh  known  to  his  family. 

"  Thank  you,  Howard,"  he  said.  "  I'll  try  to 
do  as  you  suggest.  I  never  let  Care  go  out  of 
this  office  with  me.  And  I'm  jolly  enough  at 
home.  For  my  wife  and  I  trudge  along  together 
making  light  of  annoyances.  Harold's  illness 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  213 

and  disappointment  did  depress  us  for  a  while; 
but,  now,  he  seems  improving  and  we  are  cheer 
ful  and  gay." 

The  India  mail  arrived  late  that  night.  The 
package  lay  on  Mr.  Marston's  desk  an  hour  be 
fore  he  came  to  business.  It  contained  the 
much-desired  letter,  greatly  to  his  peace  of  mind, 
also  an  invoice  of  goods  sent  to  the  firm  by  that 
brother  from  Kioto. 

"  What  does  this  mean,"  asked  Mr.  Marston. 
"  Has  he  gone  to  Japan?  How  he  changes 
about!" 

He  tore  the  letter  open  hastily,  and  found  that 
his  brother's  wife  had  died,  and  her  sickness  and 
death  had  caused  his  delay  in  writing.  His  busi 
ness  had  decreased  and  for  some  time  before  her 
death  he  had  contemplated  removal  to  Tokio. 
Very  soon  after  her  decease  he  placed  his  chil 
dren  in  the  family  of  a  missionary  in  that  city 
and  then  closed  his  Calcutta  business.  He  had 
received  splendid  offers  from  firms  both  in 
Tokio  and  Kioto  to  enter  as  partner  in  their 
trade;  had  the  matter  at  present  under  advise 
ment,  and  wished  his  brother  Philip  to  consider 
the  letter  in  the  light  of  an  advisement. 

It  was  a  long  letter.  Running  his  eye  over 
three  or  four  more  pages,  Mr.  Marston  deferred 
reading  till  the  day's  business  was  closed. 

The  weather  was  hot  and  dry,  as  sultry  as  in 


214  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

August.  Business  was  yet  more  urgent  than 
yesterday,  and  Mr.  Marston  was  glad  to  hear 
Prince's  neigh  at  the  door,  that  told  him  it  was 
time  to  order  the  office  closed  and  to  take  the 
drive  home.  He  was  thoroughly  fatigued,  and 
so  overcome  by  the  heat  that  the  moment  he 
reached  Pleasant  Hill  he  took  off  his  coat. 
Harold  vacated  the  lounge  for  his  use,  and  Mrs. 
Mordaunt  insisted  on  fanning  him. 

"  I  declare,"  said  his  wife,  taking  up  the  coat, 
"  this  old  seersucker  is  completely  demoralized. 
Lottie  shall  try  to  get  it  clean  and  then  I'll  mend 
it  up  for  the  missionary  box.  Some  poor  fellow 
down  in  Georgia  will  be  glad  to  get  a  few  weeks' 
wear  out  of  it  before  the  summer  is  over.  The 
box  is  going  next  week,  so  Lottie  must  take  it 
in  hand  immediately." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  coat  having  had  a 
faithful  scrubbing  and  rinsing,  also  an  ample 
starch-bath,  hung  on  the  clothes-dryer,  and 
Lottie  was  heating  irons  in  order  to  return 
it  to  Mrs.  Marston  as  soon  as  she  could,  and  in 
good  order  as  far  as  her  efforts  could  go.  Mr. 
Marston  came  to  the  kitchen,  somewhat  ruffled 
mentally,  and  inquired  what  had  become  of  the 
contents  of  the  coat-pocket. 

"  T'are  was  not  in  it  at  all,  to  be  vat  you  call 
contints,"  said  Lottie. 

"  Why,  Lottie ! "  he  exclaimed.    "  I  had  a  let- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  215 

ter  in  that  pocket.    What  did  you  do  with  it?  " 

"  Do  not'in.  I  vash  t'e  coat  clean.  An'  I 
s-winck  e'et  well.  An'  I  stairr'ch  e'et  well,  vary 
nice.  An'  I  hahng  e'et  to  drray." 

"  The  letter  was  certainly  in  the  pocket,"  said 
Mr.  Marston,  rather  sternly.  "  You  must  have 
done  something  with  it ;  and  I  must  have  it  now." 

Before  another  half-hour  had  passed  Lottie 
brought  the  coat  now  dry  for  Mrs.  Marston's  in 
spection — to  convince  her  that  she  had  told  the 
truth.  Mrs.  Marston  immediately  pointed  to  an 
inside  breast-pocket,  and  took  thence  the  letter, 
nearly  reduced  to  pulp,  from  its  contact  with 
water  and  the  wringer.  With  much  difficulty 
the  paper  was  picked  into  readable  portions,  and 
from  these  fragments  Mrs.  Marston  gathered  a 
few  questions  relating  to  Mrs.  Mordaunt  and 
family  and  something  concerning  a  Doctor 
Hamilton,  whom  the  writer  had  recently  met. 
This  doctor  was  a  wonderfully  ingenious  man, 
and  had  made  a  stir  in  Kioto  because  of  his 
eccentricities  and  a  curious  invention  of  his, 
nearly  completed,  that  would  probably  bring 
him  great  wealth.  Much  more  in  which  the  doc 
tor's  name  occurred  was  indecipherable, — the 
thin  overland  paper  presenting  merely  a  huge 
gray  blot,  with  that  name  only  plain  enough  to 
be  seen. 

"  Well — well !  wonders  never  will  cease,"  ex- 


216  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

claimed  Mrs.  Marston,  and  Mr.  Marston  laughed 
uproariously — "  To  think  that  the  man  has 
turned  up  alive,  at  last!  And  in  the  most  un 
expected  place." 

"  It  is  the  unexpected  that  happens,  you 
know,"  returned  her  husband.  "  Suppose  we 
take  the  letter — what  there  is  of  it — to  mother. 
She  will  be  glad  to  know  we  have  heard  from 
James." 

"  See  what  you  can  get  out  of  that,"  said  Mr. 
Marston,  as  with  one  of  his  cherry  laughs  he 
handed  his  mother  the  crushed  letter. 

The  old  lady  put  on  her  spectacles,  and  turn 
ing  the  fragments  over  and  over,  looked  at  her 
son  wonderingly. 

"  It  is  a  letter  from  James,"  he  said. 

"In  this  shape? — what  has  happened?" 

In  a  merry  way  he  told  the  accident  that  had 
befallen  it. 

"  Oh !  you  are  a  boy  yet,  Philip — in  spite  of 
the  white  threads  in  your  hair.  How  fond  you 
are  of  fun." 

"  And  I  always  mean  to  be  a  boy,"  he  replied, 
"  and  get  all  the  harmless  sport  out  of  life  that 
I  can.  There's  James,  now,  always  as  solemn 
and  sober  as  an  Egyptian  sphinx,  and  grubbing 
on  with  a  growl  every  little  while  over  the  trials 
and  hard  work  of  life,  and  never  getting  content 
or  satisfaction  in  anything.  He's  about  making 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  217 

another  change — had  changed  his  home  when 
he  wrote." 

"I  can't  see  (is  it  the  fault  of  my  eyes?)  a 
word  that  he  has  written." 

"  I  thought  you  had  better  have  tangible  proof 
of  the  letter.  I  can  give  you  a  pretty  correct 
account  of  the  most  important  parts  of  it,"  he 
responded,  and  then  told  what  he  had  read. 

"  It  is  no  more  than  I  expected.  Ellen  hadn't 
the  constitution  to  stand  such  a  climate.  But 
how  James  will  get  along  without  her,  Fm  sure 
I  don't  know — she  was  so  clear  headed  and  had 
such  tact.  I'm  glad  he  had  the  forethought  to 
put  the  children  in  the  missionary's  care.  And 
so  that  doctor  is  alive,  after  all.  I  shouldn't  be 
surprised  to  see  him  walking  in  here,  any  day, 
now,"  said  grandmother. 

"  If  he  is  coming,  I  hope  he'll  be  here  soon  and 
take  care  of  his  chemicals  and  things,"  said  Mr. 
Marston. 

"  I  must  see  Dr.  Houghton,  soon,  and  let  him 
know  where  the  fellow  is,  because,  you  know,  the 
Squire's  affairs  are  still  in  his  hands." 

"  I  wonder  what  Mrs.  Sinclair  will  say ;  Miss 
Mordaunt  will  no  doubt  be  pleased  to  know  he 
is  alive — she  never  would  agree  with  her  sister 
that  he  died  at  the  explosion,  though  Mrs.  Sin 
clair  thought  her  very  foolish  to  be  so  persistent 
in  believing  him  alive,"  said  Mrs.  Marston. 


218  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  It  shows  that  we  shouldn't  be  hasty  in  our 
conclusions,"  said  grandmother.  "  I  told  Maria 
yesterday  I  thought  we  should  hear  something 
favorable  about  Willie  before  a  great  while,  and 
this  strengthens  my  belief." 

"  Maria  is  bearing  her  trials  with  much  more 
composure  than  when  in  Denver  I  am  glad  to 
notice,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  "  and  I  hope,  mother, 
you'll  keep  up  that  belief  as  much  for  her  sake 
as  for  your  own." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  219 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GOING  TO  A  PARTY. 

MR.  MARSTON  felt  that  Dr.  Houghton  ought  to 
be  informed  that  Richard  Hamilton  was  alive, 
and,  by  right  should  have  charge  of  his  father's 
estate,  so  he  took  time  at  noon  the  next  day  to 
call  on  the  doctor  and  tell  him  of  his  letter  from 
Calcutta,  and  to  ask  his  advice  about  opening 
the  closed  balcony  and  the  disposal  of  its  con 
tents.  Dr.  Houghton  was  eager  to  know  how 
Harold  was  improving,  and  this  reminded  Mr. 
Marston  of  the  plan  for  horse-back  riding,  sug 
gested  a  few  weeks  previous. 

"  I  shouldn't  approve  of  it,"  the  doctor  re 
plied;  "walking  is  much  better  for  one  in  his 
condition,  beginning  with,  say,  one  mile  a  day, — 
and  simple  gymnastics.  By  the  way,  Marston, 
why  not  fit  up  a  gymnasium  in  that  balcony, 
after  you  get  it  cleared  and  cleansed?  A  gym 
nasium  will  be  an  excellent  thing  for  your  boys, 
and  you  couldn't  have  a  better  place  for  one  than 
that  balcony." 


220  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Yes,  yes !  I  wonder  I  hadn't  thought  of  it. 
I'll  go  about  it  directly — shall  be  glad  of  some 
exercise  of  that  sort  to  reduce  somewhat  my  in 
creasing  avoirdupois,"  was  the  gay  response,  as 
he  straightened  his  back  and  stretched  his  arms. 

"  Good  for  you ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor. 
"  Tell  Harold  to  try  walking  every  fair  day — the 
roads  are  now  in  fine  condition;  and  begin  sim 
ple  athletics  as  soon  as  possible;  but  walking 
— walking  is  the  main  thing,  while  the  country 
is  in  its  best  growth  and  bloom." 

"  He'll  be  glad  to  get  at  his  nature  studies 
again,  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Encourage  him,  —  help  him,  —  in  these 
studies,  Marston,  you'll  find  great  gain  for  your 
self  in  them.  And  I'll  try  to  get  Miss  Hamilton 
to  write  to  her  brother;  if  directed  to  Calcutta, 
or  in  your  brother's  care,  a  letter  would  reach 
him,  I  suppose?  " 

Mr.  Marston  assured  him  that  James  would 
be  pleased  to  assist  the  sister  in  any  way.  On 
reaching  home  at  dinner  time,  he  told  of  his  en 
couraging  talk  with  the  doctor  about  Harold; 
and  the  daily  walks  were  to  be  begun  the  next 
day.  The  plan  of  the  proposed  gymnasium  was 
heard  by  all  the  family  with  hearty  approval. 
Then  came  the  reading  of  a  note  received  dur 
ing  his  absence,  by  Edith — an  invitation  to  a 
birthday  party  which  was  to  take  place  the  fol- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  221 

lowing  week.  As  Mrs.  Sinclair  spoke  highly  of 
Mrs.  Wrendike,  and  her  family,  he  said  he  had 
no  objection  to  make  against  the  child's  party — 
was  especially  glad  that  the  little  blind  girl  was 
to  be  benefited  by  it.  That  led  to  a  talk  about 
the  poor  boy  who  had  "  peculiarities,"  for  whom 
the  children  had  given  their  weekly  charity 
money  while  father  and  mother  were  at  Denver, 
to  buy  him  a  book  to  study  art,  and  for  whom 
Tad  and  Polly  were  eager  to  have  a  circus  soon. 
But  just  now  the  party  claimed  chief  attention. 
Early  the  next  day  Ruth  Mordaunt  asked 
Pauline  what  she  should  wear  at  the  party. 
They  were  both  in  Edith's  room  of  which  Pau 
line  now  had  a  share.  It  was  noon  intermission 
of  Friday.  The  party  would  "begin,"  accord 
ing  to  Mrs.  Wrendike's  note,  at  "five  o'clock." 
There  would  be  little  time  for  preparations  after 
coming  home  in  the  afternoon,  so  Polly  had  gone 
upstairs  immediately  after  luncheon  to  get 
things  in  readiness.  Her  mother  would  have 
enough  to  do  to  help  Robert  and  Roland, — and 
Taddie,  whom  she  always  had  to  hurry  at  the 
last  moment,  he  was  so  dilatory.  Maud,  too, 
was  to  be  dressed  in  season,  for  she  was  certainly 
included  in  the  invitation.  Edith  would  not  be 
likely  to  get  home  from  Hillsford  till  they  were 
ready  to  set  off.  But  Darley  could  drive  them 


222  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

to  Mrs.  Wrendike's  if  nothing  happened  to  delay 
his  return  from  Hillsford. 

Polly  had.  thought  this  all  out  and  meant  to 
take  a  bath  at  noon,  the  day  was  so  warm,  and 
then  to  brush  and  roll  her  hair; — she  was  in 
clined  to  call  her  hair,  as  Susan  did,  "  a  great 
bother."  But  Harold  had  said  it  was  pretty, 
and  she  cared  a  great  deal  more  for  his  opinion 
than  for  Susan's,  and  tried  to  keep  the  curls  in 
proper  order.  They  would  get  tangled  some 
times — especially  in  the  romping  games  at  re 
cess.  And  when  Ruth  asked  what  she  was  going 
to  wear,  she  was  struggling  with  a  dreadful 
snarl  that  the  wind,  or  some  of  the  other  girls, 
had  made  when  she  played  "  Catch  "  in  the  fore 
noon  recess. 

The  snarl  troubled  her  so  much  she  didn't  no 
tice  what  Ruth  said.  Ruth,  quick  to  take  af 
front, — said  hastily ;  "  I  think  you  might  tell  me 
if  I  wasn't  invited.'' 

"  O  dear !  yes.  What  shall  I  tell  you?  "  Ruth's 
disagreeable  tones  had  been  worse  to  bear  than 
clearing  the  snarl.  Ruth  repeated  the  question. 

"  I  don't  know.  My  clean  pink  gingham,  I 
suppose." 

"  Haven't  you  anything  handsomer  than 
that?" 

"  I  think  it's  very  pretty.  Perhaps  mama  will 
let  me  wear  my  white  dress.  But  I  might  get  it 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  223 

soiled;  and  I  ought  to  keep  it  clean  for  church 
on  Sunday." 

"  I  should  think  you'd  have  a  party  dress — 
all  silk  and  lace.  I  had  one  once;  but  it's 
spoiled,  and  too  small  for  me  now.  I  hope  mama 
will  get  me  another  soon." 

"  Tilly  Moody  had  just  such  a  dress  for  Annie 
Nelson's  party  last  winter,  and  she  didn't  have 
a  bit  good  time,  she  was  so  'fraid  of  getting  it 
torn  and  soiled.  I  was  glad  'twasn't  my  dress." 

Ruth  stood  some  minutes  watching  Polly  roll 
her  curls.  Neither  of  them  spoke.  At  last  Ruth 
said — "  You  haven't  any  rings,  have  you?  " 

"  Only  this  little  one  grandma  gave  me  for 
learning  to  shut  the  doors  in  the  winter-time." 

"  Oh — that's  nothing  " — was  the  scornful  re 
joinder.  "  Don't  you  want  to  wear  my  turquoise 
and  my  garnet  one?  " 

"  Why — no !  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing? 
— borrowing  rings  and  things  to  wear?  " 

"  My  mother's  diamond  bracelet  looked  real 
handsome  with  my  party  dress  when  I  used  to 
wear  it." 

"  Oho !  Ruth  Mordaunt,  I  don't  believe  you've 
got  a  turquoise  ring — nor  a  garnet  one — nor 
your  mother  a  diamond  bracelet." 

"  Don't  you?  Well,  you  needn't.  You'll  see 
one  of  these  days,"  Ruth  returned,  with  an  ex 
asperating  toss  of  her  head.  "  I'm  glad  I've 


224  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

got  a  better  nose  than  you  have.  So,  there,  now, 
Pollywog  Marston." 

"  It's  a  good  nose.  Grandma  says  it  is,"  re 
turned  Polly  in  a  tremulous  voice.  "  And  grand 
ma  knows  more  than  anybody  in  this  house," 
the  tears,  in  spite  of  her  bravest  efforts,  running 
down  her  cheeks. 

"  It's  horrid  homely,  any  way,"  snarled  Ruth. 

"  Ruth !  Ruth !  Why  aren't  you  looking  after 
Henry?  Susan  must  go  to  her  lunch.  If  you 
can't  do  more  for  that  baby  you  must  give  up 
going  to  school."  Mrs.  Mordaunt  said  this  in 
rapid,  impatient  tones.  She  was  passing  to  her 
chamber  and  accidentally  saw  Ruth  and  heard 
her  last  words.  As  the  girl  came  toward  her  she 
shook  her  by  the  shoulders  and  bade  her  mind 
what  she  said  to  Polly  in  future,  or  she  should  be 
sent  to  the  orphan  asylum. 

Polly  was  shocked.  Her  aunt  Maria  had 
seemed  kind  and  gentle ;  and  she  couldn't  under 
stand  how  she  could  speak  in  such  tones,  or  treat 
Ruth  so.  She  felt  that  it  would  have  broken  her 
heart  to  have  her  mother  give  her  such  looks 
and  tones — and  to  shake  her!  Oh,  dear! — she 
pitied  Ruth  so  much,  she  forgot  what  she  had 
just  said  about  her  nose,  and  finished  dressing 
her  hair  as  speedily  as  possible,  thinking  she 
would  tell  her  mother.  Before  she  put  away  her 
dressing-sack,  she  concluded  not  to  tell  her 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  225 

mother,  unless  Ruth  should  be  feeling  very  sad 
when  she  called  her  to  walk  along  to  school  with 
her.  And  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  she  met 
her  in  the  hall,  and  Ruth  said — "  Pollywog 
Humpty  Dumpty ! "  and  pointed  to  her  nose 
she  changed  her  mind,  and  concluded  Ruth 
needed  no  sympathy.  They  walked  to  school  to 
gether  and  Taddie  and  the  other  boys  joined 
them  before  they  had  turned  the  corner.  The 
boys  were  all  in  high  spirits  and  talking  about 
what  Sidney  Wrendike  had  told  them  in  the 
morning  of  his  sister's  birthday  presents  and 
what  was  going  to  be  done  at  the  party. 

Both  Mr.  Parks  and  Miss  Leonard  were  con 
siderate,  and  as  the  weather  was  warm  and  many 
of  the  pupils  somewhat  excited  by  their  antici 
pations  of  the  delights  of  the  party,  they  required 
shorter  lessons;  recitations  were  finished  nearly 
half  an  hour  earlier  than  usual  and  the  school 
dismissed. 

Was  there  ever  a  day  too  warm  for  a  race 
among  children?  With  perspiration  streaming 
from  every  pore,  the  four  Marston  children 
rushed  along  the  road  as  if  for  dear  life, — pant 
ing,  and  nearly  breathless,  in  such  a  heat  that 
nothing  could  be  done  about  dressing  and  their 
mother  was  not  a  little  disturbed  to  see  them  so 
early  and  in  such  a  plight.  Maud,  sweet  and 
pure  as  a  white  rose,  in  her  plain  white  cambric 


226  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and  a  pale  blue  sash  sat  on  the  sofa  in  the  cool, 
shaded  parlor,  patiently  listening  to  a  long  story 
that  Harold  was  improvising  to  keep  her  quiet 
and  contented.  She  was  all  ready  for  the  party, 
and  a  charming  contrast  to  her  three  brothers 
and  sisters  who  came  pell-mell  into  the  coolness 
and  dimness — as  full-blown  peonies  might  to  the 
court  of  the  queenly  white  rose.  Polly  was 
struck  by  her  little  sister's  beauty  and  begged  a 
kiss — "  just  one."  The  others  admired  at  a  dis 
tance,  and  at  their  mothers  special  request  went 
to  their  rooms  to  "  cool  off."  And  Polly  didn't 
have  the  kiss;  for  Maud  drew  herself  up  with 
great  dignity  and  waved  aside  the  flushed  face. 
Ruth,  ten  minutes  later,  calm,  collected  and  cool, 
proffered  the  same  request  and  was  not  denied. 

In  good  time  all  were  ready.  Polly,  in  her 
clean  pink  gingham,  a  pink  ribbon  confining  her 
curls;  the  boys  in  Sunday  suits  and  clean  col 
lars. 

"  Of  course  you  will  all  behave  well,"  said 
their  mother,  as  she  adjusted  the  bow  of  the  last 
necktie  to  its  owner's  satisfaction — not  an  easy 
thing  to  do,  so  fastidious  were  these  young  party- 
goers.  Hands,  and  nails,  especially,  were  then 
carefully  inspected,  a  tender  point  between 
mothers  and  free  and  easy  urchins.  But,  won 
derful  to  relate! — they  met  her  approbation. 
Hadn't  Taddie  scrubbed  nearly  half  the  bristles 


The  Four  Marston  children  rushed  along  the  road. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  227 

from  his  nail-brush  in  his  contest  with  the  grime 
on  his  chubby  finger-nails?  And  Bert  and 
Roland  used  almost  a  cake  of  soap  in  removing 
the  effects  of  weeding  grandmother's  marigolds 
and  asters.  Pauline's  were,  of  course,  above 
suspicion. 

"  Now  you  ought  to  have  some  extract,"  said 
Ruth,  standing  by  as  inspector  general. 

"Extract?  What  for,"  asked  Taddie,  in 
amazment  "  We  haven't  sprained  us.  And  I 
guess  noboby's  got  a  stomach-ache,  nor  any 
thing." 

"  Not  that  kind — violets,  or  sweet  brier,  or 
cologne,  or  something  else  nice-smelling,  for  a 
scent." 

"O  pshaw!  bosh!"  said  both  Bert  and  Rol 
and. 

"  That's  for  sickness,  too,"  said  Tad. 

Polly  remained  silent.  Mrs.  Marston  said, 
"Good  health  and  neatness  need  nothing 
sweeter.  Now,  my  dears,  one  thing  more — 
politeness.  And  that  comes  from  remembering 
the  Golden  Rule,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Tad,  eagerly,  "To  do  to  others 
as  I  would  that  they  should  do  to  me." 

"  Just  in  time/  said  Polly.  "  Here  comes  the 
buggy." 

"  Be  sure,  all  of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Marston,"  to 
be  very  kind  to  the  blind  little  girl." 


228  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  And  wish  her  many  happy  birthdays,  I  sup 
pose,"  said  Roland. 

"  Certainly.  Don't  forget  to  see  Mrs.  Wren- 
dike  the  first  thing,  and  speak  politely  to  her, 
and  remember  to  thank  her  when  you  come 
home.  I  think  you'll  all  have  a  delightful  time." 

She  had  a  kiss  and  a  loving  "  good-by,  mama," 
from  each  of  them.  And  then  watched  with 
pride  and  fond  mother-love  as  they  stood  a  mo 
ment,  Maud  held  by  the  hands  of  the  two  eld 
est  boys,  for  a  word  with  their  father  and  Tom 
and  Edith,  while  Darley  turned  Prince  around : 
Mr.  Marston  lifted  Polly  into  the  vehicle  and 
then  Maud;  the  boys  scrambled  in,  and  Prince 
went  down  the  driveway  as  if  he  knew  he  had  a 
precious  load. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  team  was  dispatched  for 
their  return.  A  -merrier,  happier  set  could  not 
have  been  found  in  the  whole  country.  They 
came  chatting  and  laughing  and  singing,  over 
flowing  with  delight.  As  to  Maud  she  could 
hardly  be  kept  seated  till  Darley  had  brought 
them  to  the  door — feet  and  hands  were  in  a  con 
tinual  flutter.  Tom  and  Edith  were  ready  to 
take  her  as  soon  as  Prince  halted ;  with  a  happy 
little  laugh  she  threw  her  arms  around  Tom's 
neck  and  began  to  tell  what  she  had  seen  and 
done." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  as  he  stood  her  beside  Har- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  229 

old  who  was  in  his  reclining  chair  "  Everything 
seems  to  have  been  splendid  and  no  harm  done." 

"Just  so!  Tiptop  I"  said  Polly  and  Taddie 
in  one  breath. 

"And  the  blind  little  girl?"  asked  their 
mother. 

"  Just  as  lovely  as  she  can  be,"  said  Roland. 

"  Ever  so  sweet  and  nice,"  said  Polly. 

"  Oh,  yes !  and  I  had  two  pieces  of  frosted 
cake  and  two  saucers  of  ice-cream,"  said  Bert. 

"  And  what  does  Maud  think  of  the  party?  " 
asked  her  father,  taking  her  to  his  knee. 

"  Think  it  'markable,"  she  said  with  a  comical 
litle  laugh,  in  which  they  all  joined. 

Grandma  came  from  the  parlor  "  What  did 
you  do  at  the  party,  dear?  " 

"  Sit  on  'e  g'ass  'n  hide  'e  shoe." 

"  Lizzie  Wrendike  will  sing  and  play  at  the 
circus,"  said  Polly. 

"  At  the  circus? "  asked  Mrs.  Marston  in 
amazement. 

"  Yes.    At  Taddie's  and  mine." 

"  How  long  have  you  had  a  circus?  I'd  like 
to  know?"  asked  her  father. 

"Haven't  had  it  yet,"  said  Taddie,  "Dun 
can't  play  his  tricks  quite  well  enough." 

"  I  s'pose  papa,  you  and  mama  will  let  us. 
It's  for  the  lame  boy.  We  could  have  it  right  in 
the  parlor  and  the  library,"  said  Polly. 


230  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marston  exchanged  looks.  The 
library  lamp  shone  full  on  Mr.  Marston's  face; 
Tad,  all  anxiety,  had  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it,  and 
was  troubled  by  its  varying  emotions.  But  the 
frowning  brow  wasn't  equal  to  the  mobile, 
mirthful  lips — a  laugh  conquered; — it  was  one 
of  Mr.  Marston's  gayest,  and  so  contagious  that 
there  was  a  general  explosion  from  all  but  Tad 
and  Polly. 

"  I  don't  see  what  everybody's  laughing  at," 
remarked  Tad  very  soberly.  "  He's  been  a 
dreadful — dreadful, — what  was  it  Miss  Maria 
said,  Polly?  " 

"An  invalid — a  very  great  sufferer.  And  he 
wants  to  be  an  artist.  Yes,  and  he  must  have 
a  book  to  learn  how." 

"  How  do  you  know  all  this?  Who  is  Miss 
Maria?  " 

"Why,  papa!  don't  you  know?  She  is  Miss 
Mordaunt,  she  told  us  when  we  sat  for  Dunnie's 
and  Tad's  picture." 

"  O  Pollywog !  Now  you've  told,  and  there 
won't  be  any  s'prise! "  His  tones  were  distress 
ing. 

"  Go  on,  Polly,"  said  their  father ;  "  I  must 
know  about  this  lame  boy  and  the  picture  that 
I  suppose  he  is  making,  of  Taddie  and  the  dog." 

"  O  no !  He  isn't,"  Tad  rejoined  instantly. 
"  Miss  Maria  is  making  the  picture." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  231 

"  Now  you've  told.  So  we're  even,"  said 
Polly. 

"  Miss  Maria  Mordaunt  is  the  artist,  as  I  un 
derstand,"  observed  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Yes,  yes  sir,"  returned  Polly. 

"  And  the  lame  boy,  too.  But  he  isn't  making 
our  picture,"  said  Tad  excitedly. 

"  Let  me  explain,"  grandmother  said  in  her 
quiet,  low  tones. 

In  a  few  minutes  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marston  had  a 
full  account  of  Miss  Mordaunt's  offer,  of  the 
sitting  for  the  picture,  and  what  the  children 
had  heard  about  the  lame  boy,  and  what  per 
formances  they  intended  to  have  at  the  circus. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  "  if  your 
mother  is  willing  to  have  her  rooms  opened  for 
entertainments  for  the  public,  it's  not  for  me  to 
interdict." 

("Dear  me,"  thought  Tad,  "I'm  glad  I'm 
learning  definitions.  I'll  find  out  that  hard 
word  to-morrow,  if  it's  in  my  speller.") 

"  In  the  cause  of  charity,  I'm  willing  to  do 
my  best,"  said  their  mother.  But  I  must  know 
what  the  programme  of  performance  is,  and 
shall  take  the  liberty  to  refuse  anything  of  which 
I  don't  approve." 

Maud  had  gone  to  sleep.  Her  head  rested 
comfortably  against  her  father's  breast.  He 
carried  her  to  the  nursery  and  left  her  in 


232  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Susan's  care,  and  all  who  had  been  at  the  party 
went  to  their  rooms. 

The  delicious  coolness  of  the  evening  was 
tempting,  and  the  rest  remained  a  while  longer 
on  the  veranda.  When  Mr.  Marston  came  down 
again,  he  had  waited  till  the  boys  had  gone 
through  their  athletics,  he  advised  all — Harold, 
especially,  to  come  within  doors.  "  The  dew  is 
falling,  my  son,"  he  said,  "  its  dampness  may 
bring  back  your  cough,  which  I  am  glad  to 
notice  has  left  you." 

"  It  is  a  great  deal  better,  father,"  he  returned. 
"  I  wish  I  could  say  it  has  really  left  me ;  but,  at 
times,  it  makes  itself  too  persistent  yet." 

Ruth  took  Harold's  spruce  pillow  and  his 
slumber  roll  from  his  reclining  chair  and  went 
to  the  library  with  him.  She  seemed  pleased  to 
have  opportunity  to  do  something  for  him. 

"  Thank  you,  cousin  Ruth,"  he  said,  as  he 
seated  himself.  "  That  pillow  is  in  just  the 
right  place  for  my  tired  back.  Now,  the  roll, 
please." 

She  arranged  the  roll  deftly. 

"  Thanks,  many.  You  seem  to  know  an  inva 
lid's  needs." 

She  smiled,  and  brought  a  hassock  for  his 
feet  and  the  small  cushions  for  the  arms  of  his 
chair  that  he  sometimes  called  for. 

"  Not  those  to-night,"  he  said.     "  Now  take 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  233 

Polly's  little  chair  and  sit  close  by  me  and  tell 
me  something  about  Willie." 

The  girl  burst  into  tears;  but  she  brought  the 
chair  and  seated  herself  as  he  requested.  He 
took  one  of  her  hands  in  his.  He  could  hear 
Tom's  merry  laugh  at  something  Edith  had  said, 
and  Mrs.  Mordaunt's  light  rejoinder,  and  the  low 
undertone  of  his  grandmother  as  if  in  expostu 
lation.  They  were  still  on  the  veranda.  His 
father  and  mother  had  gone  to  the  dining-room. 
He  felt  distressed  at  the  careless  words  of  his 
aunt  Maria,  while  her  daughter,  here  at  his  side, 
was  in  such  grief.  He  could  not  speak,  and 
Ruth  sobbed  audibly.  For  a  few  minutes  they 
sat  thus,  the  conversation  on  the  veranda  be 
coming  gradually  restrained. 

He  was  at  a  loss  for  words,  though  he  wanted 
to  console  Ruth.  The  sobs  soon  ceased,  however, 
and  she  said  timidly — "  I  didn't  suppose  any  of 
the  relations  would  care  to  hear  anything  more 
about  him.  Mama  says  he  has  disgraced  the 
family.  But  he  was  good  and  nice  till  he  went 
away.  And  he  was  so  kind, — and  so  afraid  of 
doing  anything  wrong,  I  don't  see  how  he  could 
be  so  wicked  all  at  once." 

"  Then  he  never  had  any  trouble,  never  made 
your  father  any  trouble, — nor  your  mother, 
before?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  cousin  Harold.  When  papa  was 
alive  and  we  were  on  the  ranch,  oh !  how  he  did 


234  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

work !  There  wasn't  a  cow-boy  so  good  for  miles 
and  miles.  He'd  go  with  the  stock  days  and 
days,  and  get  lame  and  tired  and  everything; 
and  say  when  he  was  a  man  he'd  work  harder 
still,  and  buy  mama  a  nice  house  in  the  city,  and 
nice  handsome  dresses  for  her  and  for  me.  And 
didn't  he  work  to  get  ready  to  go  to  Denver? 
And  wasn't  he  the  gladdest  boy  that  ever  was 
when  he  found  Mr.  Doakson  would  pay  him  for 
working  in  his  store?  I  can't  think  what  he'll 
do  with  so  much  money  either — three  hundred 
dollars, — just  think  of  it?  We  had  a  dreadful 
cheap  tenement,  and  we  only  had  real  common 
things  to  eat,  and  Willie  and  I  didn't  have  new 
clothes,  nor  anything  that  costs  much  money. 
He'd  laugh,  and  say  we'd  be  rich  enough  for 
everthing  when  he  was  a  man.  And  he  always 
brought  his  pay  home  every  Saturday  for  mama 
to  use  for  what  we  had  to  eat.  He  only  took  the 
club-money  out  of  his  pay — the  base-ball  money, 
I  mean.  Mama  said  he  ought  to  have  that  for 
his  health." 

"Wasn't  he  well?" 

"  Not  very,  had  headaches,  and  couldn't  sleep 
much  and  looked  pale.  And  people  said  he  must 
have  outdoor  exercise,  and  base-ball  would  be 
good.  I  hope  he  isn't  sick  now.  And  I  wish,  oh, 
I  wish  he  would  come  home.  But  we  haven't 
any  home  now.  And  I'm  so  lonely !  Oh,  dear !  " 
She  burst  again  into  tears. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  235 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  have,"  Harold  said  hurriedly. 
"  Your  home  is  here  with  us.  Papa  wants  yau  to 
feel  that  it  is. 

"  You  can't  make  it  feel  the  same  as  your  very 
own  if  it  isn't,  and  I  keep  thinking  so  every 
night;  and  crying,  because  Willie  must  be  sorry 
he's  done  so  wrong,  and  would  like  to  tell  us  so, 
but  he  can't.  I  should  like  to  go  right  back  to 
Denver,  to  be  there  if  he  should  come,  he'd  feel 
so  badly  not  to  have  a  home." 

"  You  forget,  dear,  that  if  he  should  return  to 
Denver,  most  likely  he'd  meet  some  one  who 
would  tell  him  where  you  and  your  mother  are. 
Mr.  Stearns  would  be  sure  to  see  him  very  soon, 
and  be  very  kind  to  him  too.  You  mustn't  worry 
any  more  about  it.  I'm  glad  he's  been  so  good 
and  so  kind  to  you  and  your  mother." 

Grandmother  Marston  in  going  to  her  room 
stopped  to  say  good  night.  Ruth  rose  to  go,  for 
she  heard  her  mother  wondering  where  she  had 
gone,  moping  away  by  herself;  she  wished  she 
could  teach  her  better  manners." 

Harold  took  her  hand  again  and  advised  her 
to  try  to  feel  less  lonely  and  to  come  to  him 
when  she  felt  sad  and  unhappy.  "  We  think  per 
haps  Willie  will  come  here  to  us  some  time  and 
tell  us  why  he  went  away." 

She  smiled,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  went  up 
stairs. 


236  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SITTING  FOR  A   PORTRAIT. 

MRS.  MARSTON  felt  that  courtesy  required  a 
call  on  Mrs.  Sinclair  and  her  sister  to  acquaint 
then  with  her  husband's  letter  from  Calcutta, 
and  what  they  had  learned  about  Richard  Ham 
ilton.  After  Mr.  Marston's  interview  with  Dr. 
Houghton,  she  took  the  first  opportunity  to  go 
there  when  she  thought  the  sisters  would  both 
be  at  home  and  at  leisure.  But,  much  to  her  re 
gret,  Miss  Maria  had  gone  to  a  club  meeting. 
Mrs.  Sinclair  was  "  highly  gratified  "  to  receive 
this  attention  from  her  new  neighbor  and  when 
she  found  that  reliable  information  had  been  re 
ceived  concerning  Dr.  Hamilton,  her  amazement 
was  "  beyond  expression."  "  Maria  will  be  re 
joiced,  she  has  always  believed  he'd  turn  up  some 
where,  somehow,"  she  said.  "  I  gave  him  up  long 
ago.  Not  that  I  shouldn't  have  been  glad  to 
have  him  come  forward  again,  far  from  it.  But 
he  was  always  a  worry,  from  a  child,  full  of 
queer  notions,  and  keeping  everybody  in  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  237 

neighborhood  expecting  all  sorts  of  mischief. 
Maria,  though,  wouldn't  hear  a  word  said  against 
him — ever." 

"  She  and  he  were  friends,  I  think  you  have 
said,"  returned  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  Friends?  yes,  indeed.  If  that  smash-up 
hadn't  taken  place  just  as  it  did,  I  believe  she 
would  have  gone  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  with 
him." 

"And  there  he  is  now,"  was  Mrs.  Marston's 
merry  response;  "and  so  you  have  your  sister 
yet" 

"  Oh !  the  fellow  meant  well,  I  firmly  believe 
that.  But  he  had  weak  judgment  and  a  vacil 
lating  will,  and  was  reckless  in  his  ambition  to 
become  noted  for  something  or  other.  Took  a 
turn  after  leaving  college  towards  scientific  mat 
ters  ;  and,  you  see,  he  hadn't  the  means  to  carry 
out  such  large  ideas.  His  father  supplied  him 
with  funds  till  he  found  his  schemes  never  would 
be  made  available ;  and  then,  well,  I  may  as  well 
say  he  took  all  that  my  brother  was  willing  to 
spare  from  his  share  of  our  property." 

"  Your  brother  Henry?  "  asked  the  astonished 
Mrs.  Marston. 

"  Yes.  Henry  was  easily  persuaded,  and  was 
just  going  to  marry  Maria  Marston,  your  hus 
band's  sister.  And  Henry  wished  to  stand  well 
in  the  estimation  of  the  Hamilton's,  (Squire 


238  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Hamilton  being  at  that  time  the  great  man  of 
Pippoton)  and  Richard  and  he  had  been  mates 
at  school.  But  there  it  was.  Richard  had  the 
money,  but  never  refunded ;  and  poor  Henry  had 
to  make  the  best  of  it,  ended  his  days  off  in  a 
Colorado  ranch.  So  his  widow  and  children  had 
to  come  here  for  her  brother  Philip  to  support." 

"  A  hard  case,  looked  at  from  any  point ; "  re 
turned  Mrs.  Marston.  "  How  far  ambition  will 
carry  its  victims!  Richard  is  no  more  culpable 
on  that  score  than  hundreds  of  others  who  do 
business  on  borrowed  capital.  Inventors  have 
much  to  contend  with,  (even  if  they  succeed  in 
getting  their  ideas  patented)  from  their  less- 
gifted  fellows/'  remarked  Mrs.  Marston. 

"  The  squire's  last  days  were  made  miserable 
by  all  the  sneers  and  innuendoes  of  the  vil 
lagers,"  said  Mrs.  Sinclair.  "  I  was  glad  that 
Mrs.  Hamilton  was  spared  the  mortification; 
but  the  sister  couldn't  remain  here  long  after 
the  explosion,  she  was  too  proud  to  be  the  butt 
of  so  much  ridicule." 

"  According  to  my  brother's  letter,  he  has  now 
succeeded,  and  has  obtained  a  patent  for  a  val 
uable  invention.  I  wish  I  could  have  seen  your 
sister,  no  doubt  she'll  be  pleased  at  the  favorable 
news.  And  I  want  to  thank  her  for  her  interest 
in  my  children.  Pauline  and  Thaddeus  are  very 
happy  in  their  acquaintance  with  her;  the  pic- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  239 

ture,  too,  that  she  is  painting  for  them  I  shall 
hope  to  see  before  long.  Please  come  in  both 
of  you  and  let  us  be  friends  as  well  as  neigh 
bors." 

Harold  had  been  hoping  for  some  weeks  to 
feel  able  to  go  to  the  pond,  "  small  lake,"  Polly 
called  it.  He  set  off  this  morning.  Polly  had 
followed  him,  and  they  two  were  seated  on  the 
bench  in  the  shade  of  >the  willows.  Tad  soon 
came  along  and  Duncan  seemed  rejoiced  to  be 
called  by  Harold.  And  Harold  proposed  that 
the  dog  should  remain  with  him,  when  he  re 
turned  to  the  house  he  would  see  that  he  was 
secured  in  the  barn;  it  was  necessary  to  fasten 
him  there  unless  he  was  under  some  one's  eye. 
For  he  loved  to  rove,  and  a  farmer  in  the  vicinity 
had  complained,  because  some  of  his  sheep  had 
been  killed,  of  dogs  allowed  to  go  at  large. 

"  I  don't  believe  Dunnie  would  do  such  a 
thing,"  was  Tad's  indignant  comment. 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  we  don't  know.  It  is 
dog's  nature,  inherited  from  their  wild  ances 
tors,"  Harold  said.  "And  it  is  difficult  to 
break  them  of  that  propensity." 

("A  hard  word,"  said  Tad  to  himself.  "  I'm 
glad  I'm  learning  definitions.") 

"Did  you  speak?"  asked  Harold. 

"  I  didn't  say  much  of  anything.  But  do  you 
suppose,  Oldie  it  would  be  harder  for  dogs  to 


240  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

learn  not  to  worry  and  kill  sheep  than  for  me 
to  learn  definitions  and  remember  them?" 

"  I  can't  suppose  anything  of  that  sort,"  Har 
old  replied  tenderly.  "  They  can  be  taught  and 
be  ruled  much  more  easily  by  kindness  than  by 
blows  and  harsh  treatment." 

"  Come,  Taddie;  Ruth  passed  by  to  school  just 
now,"  said  Polly.  "  Let's  overtake  her,  and  we'll 
always  be  kind  to  Dun,  go  he  won't  remember 
any  ugly  ways." 

The  pond  lilies  afloat  near  the  edge  of  the 
water  were  a  delightful  study  to  Harold.  Their 
white  cups,  filled  with  the  gold-colored  filaments 
of  stamens  seemed  to  have  taken  the  sunshine 
and  made  it  their  own;  for  the  yellow  stamens 
in  many  of  the  flowers  were  becoming  petals. 
Duncan  lay  contentedly  stretched  at  his  feet  as 
he  sat  there.  A  stylish  team  drove  rapidly  up 
the  road  making  a  clatter  and  no  little  dust.  It 
came  directly  toward  the  willows  and  a  young 
man  hitched  up  the  reins  and  leaped  to  the 
ground  before  the  horse  had  actually  come  to  a 
stand-still. 

"  Hi !  Marston ! "  he  cried.  "  This  is  fine. 
Didn't  dream  of  finding  you  set  up  in  regulation 
order,  travelling  round  the  country,  and  that 
sort  of  thing,  like  any  hardy  son  of  the  soil. 
How  many  miles  can  you  take  a  day?  " 

Harold  seized  the  outstretched  hand  with  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  241 

ardor  of  warm  friendship  and  the  young  man 
took  the  vacant  seat  at  his  side.  "  This  is  my 
longest  walk ;  you  san  see  how  far  I  have  come," 
and  pointed  to  the  house. 

"  Not  half  a  sabbath  day's  journey  of  the  old 
Jews.  But,  bless  you,  old  fellow,  it's  a  gain,  a 
handsome  gain  over  your  last  weeks  at  Hillsford. 
Isn't  it,  now?  Don't  you  feel  that  it  is?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is ;  and  I  am  glad,  truly  glad,  Dins- 
more,  of  even  the  least  gain.  But,  oh!  if  you 
knew  how  I  envy  you  your  strong  health!  You 
are  in  excellent  condition.  What  a  splendid 
physique !  and  the  muscles,  like  iron ! " 

He  grasped  Dinsmore's  arm  as  he  spoke.  You 
are  in  high  feather  for  study,  or  for  athletics, 
either,  if  you  choose  to  make  them  your  hobby." 

"  Granted !  but  you've  no  reason  to  complain. 
After  the  hard  lines  of  that  cough  and  its  con 
comitants  of  the  spring,  this  is  beyond  value, 
this  outdoor  life.  I  can  see  see,  my  good  chap 
pie,  that  you've  drunk  in  any  quantity  of  pure 
oxygen  up  here,  without  any  mixture  of  phos 
phates  or  hydrates,  or  any  compound  whatso 
ever,  Nature's  own  elixir.  And  with  no  aid  from 
any  inhaler  but  your  own  lungs,  eh?" 

Harold  nodded  assent. 

"  I  thought  so.  It's  given  you  rich  red  blood, 
this  ozone  of  the  atmosphere  here  (I'm  sensible 


242  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

of  it  myself  this  very  instant),  and  it's  building 
up  your  system  like  a  house  afire." 

Harold  laughed.  "  I  guess  you've  been  read 
ing  that  old  Greek  who  said  the  beginning  is 
half  of  the  whole.  No  more  of  this,  now.  What 
of  your  status?  How  has  the  preliminary 
gone?  " 

Dinsmore  groaned  in  mock  distress.  "  The 
narrowest  chance  in  the  world.  Escaped  by 
the  skin  of  my  teeth." 

"Conditions?" 

"  None,  I'm  thankful  to  say." 

"Oh!  I  call  that  coming  off  with  flying 
colors." 

"  Five  mortal  hours,  Marston.  Now,  comes 
the  final  in  September.  That  will  tell  the  whole 
story,  and  black  enough,  as  you'll  see  then." 

"Now,  Dinsmore,  what's  the  use?  .1  know 
your  abilities,  it's  too  bad  to  underrate  them, 
it's  all  false  modesty.  There's  no  question  in 
my  mind  about  the  result  of  your  final.  I  wish 
I  might  be  in  it  with  you.  But  I've  about  made 
up  my  mind  to  give  up  my  fight  for  college." 

"  You  shall  not,  you  must  not,"  said  Dinsmore 
bringing  his  right  foot  with  such  emphasis  to 
the  ground  that  the  water  of  the  pond  trembled 
and  circled  away  from  the  brink.  "  You  are 
coming  out  of  this  setback  all  right,  only  wait 
a  little  longer." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  243 

"  No,"  said  Harold  firmly.  If  I  regain  health, 
which  I  believe  I  am  now  in  a  fair  way  to  do, 
I  cannot  get  through  my  studies  in  less  than 
four  or  five  years,  this  sickness  has  so  belated 
me.  I  ought  to  be  in  active  business  before 
that  time;  and  could  easily  find  agreeable  em 
ployment  any  day  in  which  I  should  be  as  use 
ful  as  if  I  had  spent  so  many  years  over  books." 

"  And  all  our  dreams  of  college-life  together 
given  up !  I  wish  I  hadn't  gone  so  far,  if  you  are 
not  coming,  'twon't  be  half  the  good  for  me." 

"  How  far  do  you  intend  to  drive  this  morn 
ing?  "  asked  Harold. 

"  I  only  thought  of  going  to  Pleasant  Hill  to 
see  how  you  are  getting  on,  and  have  a  few 
bright  thoughts  of  yours." 

"  Suppose  we  go  there  now.  I  want  you  to 
have  the  view  from  the  front  veranda." 

Dinsmore  agreed,  assisted  Harold  into  the  ve 
hicle  and  drove  there,  Duncan  trotting  behind, 
and,  in  obedience  to  his  recent  training,  going 
immediately  to  his  place  in  the  barn. 

Harold  called  Dinsmore's  attention  to  the 
dog's  sedate  conduct,  and  spoke  of  the  tricks 
Taddie  was  teaching  him  and  of  the  perform 
ance  soon  to  take  place  in  aid  of  the  lame  boy 
whose  infirmities  were  mentioned  in  detail. 

"  Arthur  Baldwin ! — it  must  be  he,"  said  Dins- 
more.  "  My  mother  is  well  acquainted  with  the 


244  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

boy's  aunt  who  has  had  the  care  of  him  since 
his  parents'  death  three  years  ago.  Miss  Bald 
win  is  a  very  intelligent  lady.  She  belongs  to 
a  noted  Southern  family.  Her  father  was  once 
wealthy.  The  boy  is  said  to  be  intellectual,  has 
some  talent  for  painting,  and  hopes  to  become 
an  artist," 

While  Dinsmore  talked  he  and  Harold  came 
up  the  terrace  steps  of  the  front  lawn  and  reach 
ing  the  veranda,  stood  gazing  around  them.  "  I 
am  glad  to  know  so  much  about  the  boy,  shall 
help  the  children  to  do  what  they  can  for  him," 
Harold  said,  "and,  now,  isn't  this  a  fine  view? 
Even  a  glimpse  of  the  ocean,  see — there  toward 
the  east.  If  that  boy  can  sketch,  we'll  have  him 
here  to  take  this.  It  might  be  the  making  of 
him." 

"  You  are  right,  Marston.  I  don't  believe 
there  could  be  found  a  better  subject,  not  one  of 
greater  variety,  certainly,  in  the  state." 

From  this  Harold  took  him  where  the  river 
was  seen  beyond  the  pines,  the  little  arched 
bridge  and  the  boat-house;  all  which  was  duly 
admired.  Then  they  had  a  look  at  the  garden. 

"  Now,"  said  Dinsmore,  "  I  want  to  see  the 
closed  balcony,  that  there  has  been  such  a  hue 
and  cry  about,  with  its  rattling  wires  and  flam 
ing  wheel.  You've  never  said  a  word  about  it, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  245 

and  do  you  know,  it's  made  Pleasant  Hill  famous 
with  wonder-mongers  for  some  years." 

"  A  most  absurd  deceit ! "  said  Harold.  "  I 
sometimes  lose  all  patience  with  the  gabbling 
gossips  that  come  to  our  servants  and  fill  their 
heads  with  such  frightful  stories  that  they  get 
into  panics;  they  are  nearly  convinced  now,  by 
my  father's  stern  and  wise  course  with  them, 
that  we  are  driving  off  the  bad  spirits,  if  there 
were  ever  any  here."  He  closed  with  a  merry 
laugh.  Back  again  on  the  veranda,  they  had  a 
chat  about  Hillsford  friends. 

Mrs.  Marston  had  seen  the  vehicle  at  the 
hitching  post,  and  came  to  welcome  her  son's 
guest.  She  made  kind  enquiries  about  his 
mother  and  other  relatives;  and  of  the  result 
of  his  examination,  was  pleased  to  hear  of  his 
success  and  invited  him  to  remain  and  take 
lunch.  He  was  obliged  to  decline  on  account  of 
an  engagement  at  noon.  Regretting  that  his 
stay  must  be  so  short,  she  left  them  to  attend  to 
some  pressing  housekeeping  duties.  Surprised 
to  hear  the  clock  strike  twelve,  Dinsmore  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  promising  to  come  often  during 
the  summer  bade  Harold  keep  up  courage  and 
discard  the  notion  of  discontinuing  his  prepara 
tion  for  college;  then  jumped  into  the  buggy 
and  dashed  over  the  road  to  Hillsford  at  a  furi 
ous  rate. 


246  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Mrs.  Marston  was  pleased  to  know  that  Mrs. 
Dinsmore  knew  the  lame  boy  and  his  aunt.  She 
advised  Polly  and  Tad  to  have  the  circus  the 
next  week. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  247 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE  BALCONY  TO  BE  OPENED. 

HAVING  decided  that  the  circus  was  soon  to 
take  place,  the  Marston  family,  the  younger  por 
tion,  particularly,  made  it  the  most  important 
subject  for  thought  and  speech,  and  of  as  much 
action  as  could  be  spared  from  everyday  duties. 

Mr.  Marston  said  one  evening  to  his  wife.  "  I 
have  spoken  to  Darley  about  clearing  out  those 
closed  rooms.  He  and  Brown  are  not  especially 
busy  just  now,  and  while  the  children's  heads 
are  full  of  circus  affairs,  they  won't  be  so  ready 
to  get  into  an  excitement  over  the  opening  of  the 
"  closed  balcony  "  as  I  find  most  of  the  villagers 
call  it." 

"Why  not  have  it  done  to-morrow?"  she  re 
turned. 

"  I  think  I  will,"  he  rejoined.  "  Darley  need 
only  work  there  while  the  children  are  at  school, 
it  seems  to  me." 

"  And  in  this  fine  weather  he  can  manage  so 
as  to  accomplish  it,  and  get  rid  of  all  the  rubbish 


248  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and  smut  and  grime  before  they  can  have  a 
chance  to  speculate  and  discover." 

"  Taddie  had  such  an  experience  there,  he 
might  perhaps  keep  away,"  said  Mr.  Marston. 
But  I  shouldn't  like  to  trust  Roland  and  Robert 
among  the  rubbish.  I'll  see  about  it  the  first 
thing  to-morrow." 

Great  was  Taddie's  and  Polly's  astonishment 
on  returning  from  school  two  days  later,  to  see 
a  load  of  lumber  at  the  side  entrance,  and  Mr. 
Goodwin  and  other  carpenters  at  work  in  the 
balcony,  that  was  fast  becoming  a  fine,  roomy 
apartment,  while  the  waste  heap  was  bristling 
with  all  sorts  of  dilapidated  utensils,  crooked 
wires,  and  the  usual  debris  from  a  demolished 
machine  shop.  And  the  next  change,  and  that 
called  for  close  inspection,  was  all  the  parapher 
nalia  of  a  firstclass  gymnasium  properly  set  up 
for  immediate  use  there,  greatly  to  the  joy  of 
all  the  household,  for  feminine  as  well  as  mascu 
line  members  were  to  find  therein  new  strength 
and  higher  health. 

In  arranging  the  programme  for  the  circus, 
Polly  was  allowed  to  gratify  her  taste  first, 
which  was  for  plenty  of  music,  though  the  boys 
wished  for  all  sorts  of  exploits  with  balls  and 
bars  and  ropes.  Edith  determined  to  have  the 
affair  managed  as  quietly  as  possible.  She  had 
heard  of  rough  and  noisy  arrangements  in  cir- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  249 

cuses,  and  she  firmly  refused  to  allow  one  num 
ber  on  the  programme  that  called  for  boisterous 
effort  or  for  rude  behavior.  Polly  and  Taddie 
would  sing  tunes  that  were  familiar,  and  Edith 
would  play  the  accompaniments.  Lizzie  Wren- 
dike,  the  blind  girl,  would  sing  her  favorite 
pieces.  Roland  and  Robert  wished  to  get  up  a 
few  scenes  of  their  own  individual  fancy  to  be 
as  a  surprise.  Their  mother  didn't  approve 
secrecy;  finally  she  gave  a  reluctant  consent  on 
their  assertion  that  they  would  do  nothing  im 
proper,  and  that  they  should  be  the  last  on  the 
bill. 

In  deciding  about  the  music  it  was  necessary 
to  see  the  blind  girl  two  or  three  times.  Polly 
went  to  Mrs.  Wrendike's  and  heard  Lizzie  play; 
and  twice  Lizzie  came  and  practised  on  Edith's 
piano,  and  Mrs.  Marston  was  much  pleased  with 
the  child's  gentle,  modest  manners. 

Harold  offered  to  write  the  tickets  for  admis 
sion,  also  the  programmes.  And  with  cutting 
the  tickets  from  cardboard,  and  arranging  the 
hoops  and  wands  and  wheels  for  Duncan's  feats, 
the  boys  were  kept  busy  through  their  out-of- 
school  hours  for  several  days.  Polly  was  to  sell 
the  tickets.  She  disposed  of  a  good  many  among 
her  schoolmates.  She  called  one  day  on  Miss 
Maria  Mordaunt,  told  her  about  the  lame  boy 
and  what  were  to  be  the  performances  at  the 


250  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

circus,  and  hoped  she  would  get  money  enough 
from  the  sale  of  tickets  to  buy  him  all  the  books 
on  Art  he  needed.  Miss  Mordaunt  said  she  knew 
about  the  boy,  went  sometimes  to  see  him,  had 
lent  him  pictures  to  copy,  and  took  twenty-five 
tickets  immediately.  And  Polly,  jubilant,  went 
to  show  the  money  to  her  grandmother  and  leave 
it  in  her  keeping  till  the  circus  was  all  over. 

At  last  the  day  for  the  circus  came,  bright  and 
warm.  Ruth  and  Polly  rose  early,  and  brought 
all  the  chairs  in  the  house  to  the  parlor,  and 
Edith  said  she  hoped  they'd  every  one  be  filled. 
Harry  Dunn  wanted  to  bring  his  dog  Caesar  to 
show  off  his  tricks.  At  first  the  boys  were  not 
willing.  "  It  is  to  be  the  Marston  circus,"  Tad- 
die  sai,d,  with  as  much  of  a  pout  on  his  full,  red 
lips,  as  was  ever  allowed  placed  there ;  but  when 
Roland  said  it  would  be  giving  the  people  more 
for  their  money,  Tad  told  him  he  might  come,  and 
see  how  Dun  would  like  him.  At  first  Dun 
growled  and  snarled  at  the  intruder;  then 
watched  in  grim  silence  the  learned  dog's  dis 
play;  and,  in  proud  disdain,  refused  all  cajolings, 
threats,  and  even  Taddle's  bribes  of  candy  to  per 
form  the  tricks  that  Taddie  and  Bert  had  taught 
him.  "  It  was  as  good  as  a  play  to  see  his  scorn 
of  the  upstart,"  Harold  said  afterwards. 

Mr.  Sterling,  his  daughter  and  Miss  Leonard 
were  among  the  earliest  spectators,  and  after  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  251 

closing  hymn  which  Lizzie  Wrendike  chose  and 
sang  delightfully,  Mr.  Sterling  expressed  the 
thanks  of  the  audience  in  a  very  happy  manner, 
and  then  handed  Polly  a  dollar  as  his  apprecia 
tion  of  the  entertainment. 

"A  whole  silver  dollar,"  said  Polly  in  glad 
amazement.  "  We  ought  to  have  another  circus 
and  give  you  a  free  ticket,'  sir." 

"  When  we  want  more  for  the  lame  boy,"  said 
he,  "  I'll  be  pleased  to  help."  And  then  Taddie 
made  him  one  of  his  best  bows  and  asked  him  to 
come  again  soon. 

Polly  counted  the  money  from  sale  of  the 
tickets  two  or  three  times  to  be  sure  that  it 
agreed  with  the  number  sold.  Then,  before  the 
sun  went  down,  she  and  Tad  took  it  in  Polly's 
small  work-basket  to  show  Miss  Mordaunt,  and 
ask  her  how  many  books  it  would  buy  for  the 
lame  boy.  She  said  that  on  Monday  she  would 
go  to  the  city  and  buy  them,  she  knew  very  well 
what  "  Arthur  wished  to  have,"  she  said. 

On  Tuesday  evening  came  a  very  pretty  note 
of  thanks  to  Miss  Pauline  Maria  Marston  from 
Arthur  Baldwin;  in  which  the  hope  was  ex 
pressed  that  she  and  her  brothers  would  soon 
come  to  see  him.  She  didn't  know  till  weeks 
afterward  that  the  poor  crippled  boy  wrote  the 
note  with  his  pen  held  tightly  between  his  teeth ; 


252  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

and,  also,  that  pencil,  and  paint  brush,  he  was 
obliged  to  use  in  the  same  way. 

Miss  Mordaunt  having  finished  her  picture  of 
Tad  and  Duncan  brought  it  in  one  morning. 
The  whole  family  were  pleased  with  it.  Taddie 
was  delighted  with  Dun's  collar  in  it.  "  That's 
the  best  part,  Miss  Maria,"  he  said.  "  I  can 
read  '  his  brave  deeds '  just  as  plain  as  it  is  on  the 
real  collar." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  your  own  part  of  the 
picture?"  she  asked. 

( Tad's  cropped  locks  were  getting  long  enough 
to  hide  most  of  the  bald  spots,  and  on  those  a 
new  crop  was  now  starting  out.) 

"  You've  made  my  hair  too  nice,  haven't  you?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  ishe  returned,  appealing  to 
Mrs.  Marston. 

"  No,"  said  she.  "  It's  my  Taddie  in  his  best 
looks.  I  thank  you  very  much.  We  shall  prize 
the  portrait  highly." 

"  You  didn't  paint  his  freckles,  did  you?  "  said 
Polly. 

"  I  think,  Miss  Mordaunt,"  said  Tad's  father, 
"  If  I  ever  have  occasion  for  work  in  your  line 
I  shall  come  to  you;  you  treat  imperfections  so 
tenderly,  and  idealize  the  commonplace  so  well. 
Under  your  skilful  touch  an  ordinary  man,  like 
myself,  would  have  the  bearing  and  the  expres 
sion  of  a  hero." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  253 

"  Ah ! "  she  returned,  "  many  a  person  in  the 
common  walks  of  life  is  a  hero  unconsciously. 
If  in  the  study  of  a  face  the  artist  finds  traces  of 
heroism,  (they  may  be  unseen  by  a  casual 
glance)  isn't  it  his  duty  to  represent  them?  I 
think  so.  It  is  one  of  my  highest  pleasures  to 
discover  these  and  to  portray  them.  I  shall  be 
very  happy  at  some  future  time,  when  I  ac 
quire  greater  skill  with  oils  to  show  you  what  I 
can  find  in  your  face." 

Miss  Mordaunt  came  again  the  next  evening 
accompanied  by  Ellen  Wrightman,  another 
neighbor. 

The  Wrightmans  lived  on  a  farm  about  a  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  below  the  hill.  John,  Ben,  and 
Frank  were  the  brothers;  Ellen  and  Bertha  the 
sisters.  Their  parents  had  both  recently  died. 
Ellen  was  housekeeper  and  she  tried  to  eke  out 
their  small  income  by  keeping  summer  boarders. 
She  had  only  two  at  present,  Mrs.  Lambert,  a 
southern  lady,  an  invalid;  and  Miss  Johnston, 
an  elderly  person,  from  Boston.  John,  twenty 
years  old,  with  Ben's  assistance,  managed  the 
farm  work;  Frank  and  Bertha,  were  older  than 
Roland  and  Robert,  but  in  the  same  class. 

Just  as  Miss  Mordaunt  and  Ellen  Wrightman 
were  leaving,  Mr.  Marston  remembered  that  Mrs. 
Sinclair  had  mentioned  that  Maria  would  be 
glad  to  hear  something  about  Richard  Hamilton, 


254  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

so  he  said  he  wished  to  detain  her  a  moment, 
that  he  intended  answering  the  letter  he  had 
received  from  his  brother  James  as  soon  as  he 
had  dispatched  some  important  government  bus 
iness,  and  if  she  wished  to  send  any  message  to 
Dr.  Hamilton  he  would  be  pleased  to  pass  it  on 
for  her,  in  his  letter  to  that  brother. 

The  moment  he  had  mentioned  Richard  Ham 
ilton's  name  he  saw  that  he  had  been  too  abrupt, 
and  obtuse  in  bringing  it  forward,  for  a  deathly 
pallor,  followed  by  a  painful  flush,  passed  rap 
idly  over  her  features  and  she  seemed  ready  to 
faint.  With  great  difficulty  she  controlled  her 
voice  to  speak.  "  I  will  see  you  later,"  she 
murmured  tremulously  and  passed  rapidly  from 
the  door. 

Mrs.  Marston  whispered,  "  Philip !  how  could 
you  ? "  in  tones  of  reproach,  "  Impulsive  as 
ever ! " 

"  Yes,  yes,  and  shall  be,  always,  I'm  afraid,  if 
I  live  as  long  as  Methusaleh.  But,  Mary,  you 
know  I  never  could  understand  women's  nature, 
nor  their  sensibilities.  I'm  afraid  I've  made  her 
my  enemy." 

"  She's  so  diffident,  so  retiring — " 

"  Well,  well.  I  shan't,  I  can't  apologize  for 
my  rudeness,  but  I'm  sorry.  And  I'll  write  the 
letter  to  James  this  very  evening,  and  be  all 
ready  to  put  in  her  message  whenever  she  brings 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  255 

it.  Government  business  may  wait  till  I  get 
this  worry  off  my  mind." 

So  saying  he  betook  himself  to  the  library  and 
in  the  pale  moonlight  threw  himself  on  the  lounge 
and  was  soon  taking  his  usual  siesta,  from  which 
half  an  hour  later  Lottie  roused  him  to  meet 
Miss  Mordaunt  in  the  parlor. 

"  I've  come  to  apologize,"  said  Miss  Mordaunt, 
hurrying  eagerly  forward,  and  extending  a  hand 
in  greeting.  "  I  ought  to  have  called  imme 
diately  after  my  sister  was  told  of  the  pleasant 
news  you  had  received  from  your  brother;  and 
when  you  just  now  alluded  to  Dr.  Hamilton,  I 
was  quite  overwhelmed  with  compunction  for 
my  discourtesy  in  neglecting  to  do  so.  I  hope 
you  will  excuse  me,  and  tell  me  all  you  know  of 
the  doctor's  late  experiences." 

"  Oh !  really,  I  can  only  say  that,  according  to 
the  letter,  he  is  now  in  prosperous  circumstances 
and  in  good  health.  I  shall  write  to  James  im 
mediately  and  tell  him  how  we  are  situated  here, 
and  of  the  change  I  have  made  in  the  balcony. 
And  he  may  tell  what  he  sees  fit  about  Pleasant 
Hill  to  your  friend,  the  doctor; — he  is  your 
friend,  I  presume?  "  He  said  this  with  an  up 
ward,  questioning  glance.  She  replied  quietly, 
"  You  can  give  my  best  wishes  to  the  doctor, 
and  the  hope  that  he  has  kept  a  small  place  in 
his  memory  for  Pleasant  Hill  and  its  people." 


256  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Nothing  more?  "  said  Mr.  Marston. 

"That  is  all;  it's  getting  late,  so  good  night; 
and  please  remember  to  tell  me  when  you  get 
the  next  letter." 

Now  Lottie  had  lighted  the  library  lamp  and 
thither  Mr.  Marston  passed,  and  in  consulta 
tion  with  his  wife  and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Mordaunt, 
he  wrote  the  letter  that  had  been  such  a  long 
time  in  mind.  It  was  mailed  the  next  day  and 
reached  its  destination  promptly;  its  contents 
eagerly  repeated  to  all  his  brother's  friends, 
Dr.  Hamilton  begging  to  be  allowed  a  page  in 
its  reply,  "  to  make  things  straight  and  fair," 
he  said. 

The  Wrightmans  were  intelligent  and  well 
mannered  and  soon  became  great  friends  of  the 
Marston. 

The  fourth  of  July  drew  near.  The  Wright- 
mans  and  the  Wrendikes  were  invited  to  a  pic 
nic  by  Mrs.  Marston,  to  be  held  that  day  in  the 
pine  grove.  Roland  and  Robert  and  Thaddeus 
spent  all  their  earnings  for  two  weeks  in  buying 
firecrackers.  Polly  had  a  few  pull  crackers  and 
torpedos  that  her  father  gave  her,  he  also  dis 
tributed  a  few  bunches  of  crackers  among  the 
boys,  who,  grandmother  Marston  said,  made 
noise  enough  for  an  army.  Ruth  and  her  mother 
were  much  out-of-sorts. 

When  dinner  was  over  and  the  younger  chil- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  257 

dren  so  tired  they  wanted  to  come  to  the  house, 
Mr.  Marston  brought  forward  the  fire  works  he 
had  provided  for  the  evening.  At  the  sight  of 
them  all  fatigue  fled;  every  boy  was  eager  for 
the  display.  After  dark  Tom,  under  his  father's 
direction,  let  them  off.  Ruth  cried  through  the 
whole.  She  told  Harold  she  couldn't  help  the 
thoughts  of  the  previous  Fourth,  when  she  was  in 
Denver,  and  there  was  a  grand  celebration,  and 
she  and  Willie  were  together  and  very  happy. 
Mrs.  Marston  tried  to  say  something  comforting 
to  the  child.  But  it  did  no  good;  both  she  and 
her  mother,  at  last,  went  to  bed,  feeling  sick  and 
sad. 

Before  the  week  was  out,  a  copy  of  the  Denver 
News  came  to  Mr.  Marston  by  mail  in  which  was 
an  account  of  a  robbery  of  Mr.  Doakson's  store 
and  of  the  disappearance  of  Simpkins  and  Wal 
ton.  Money,  and  a  large  quantity  of  valuable 
goods  had  been  taken,  evidently  by  these  sales 
men,  and  the  police  were  on  their  track.  Contra 
dictory  rumors  were  afloat.  The  most  trust 
worthy  pointed  to  their  escape  eastward,  and 
detectives  in  the  northern  and  eastern  cities 
were  looking  out  for  them. 

"  Now  we  shall  get  a  letter  from  Stearns,"  said 
Mr.  Marston.  "  I  suppose,  Mary,  though  you  do 
not  exult  at  wrong-doing,  you  are  confirmed  in 
your  opinion  of  William  Mordaunt's  innocence." 


258  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"Yes,  how  could  I  be  otherwise?  And  I  am 
truly  glad  for  Maria  and  Ruth." 

The  next  day  a  letter  arrived  from  Mr.  Doak- 
son,  in  which  that  gentleman  regretted  ;that 
when  the  previous  robbery  occurred,  he  had  not 
taken  steps  to  prove  young  Mordaunt's  inno 
cence.  He  was  now  convinced  that  Walton  and 
Simpkins  were  the  culprits.  If  the  boy  had  been 
found  and  brought  to  trial  their  true  character 
would  have  been  shown,  and,  probably  this  rob 
bery  prevented. 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  and  Ruth  were  deeply  inter 
ested  in  the  newspaper  report,  and  shocked  to 
hear  that  the  men  in  whom  they  had  trusted  had 
proved  so  wicked.  They  did  not  say  that  now 
they  believed  these  men  had  themselves  been 
guilty  of  the  crime  attributed  to  William,  but 
they  were  more  ready  to  speak  of  William's  good 
conduct.  Mr.  Doakson's  letter  gave  them  much 
comfort. 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Doakson  is  one  of  the  kindest 
men,"  Mrs.  Mordaunt  said.  "  I  feel  persuaded 
that  he  will  try  to  find  William." 

"  Did  you  ever  think,  Maria,  that  William  may 
have  tried  to  go  to  his  uncle  in  Calcutta?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Marston. 

"  Why,  no ! "  she  rejoined.  "  We  sometimes 
spoke  about  James.  I  suppose  if  he  had  money 
enough  he  could  have  gone  on  the  Denver  and 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  259 

Pacific  railway  to  San  Francisco,  and  from  there 
by  steamer.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  if  he 
were  in  trouble  he  wouldn't  go  to  his  uncle.  I 
suppose  he  is  working  somewhere  to  earn  money 
to  send  to  me;  because  he  knows  that  I  de 
pended,  in  a  great  measure  upon  what  he  could 
earn." 

"James  isn't  in  Calcutta  now,  you  know.  I 
hope  he  hasn't  gone  there,"  said  grandmother. 

Yet  nearly  a  month  passed  and  nothing 
further  was  heard. 

Harold  continued  to  improve  in  health 
but  grandmother  Marston  grew  more  feeble. 
Whether  her  thoughts  of  the  unfortunate  boy, 
by  undeserved  censure  exiled  from  home  and 
friends,  had  anything  to  do  with  her  failing 
strength  was  often  a  question  between  her  son 
Philip  and  his  wife.  But  they  kept  their  con 
jectures  to  themselves. 

The  August  vacation  had  begun.  The  chil 
dren  were  continually  in  the  woods,  or  rambling 
over  the  fields.  Taddie  wanted  Dun's  company 
in  these  excursions,  but  his  father  wouldn't  al 
low  the  dog  to  be  taken  from  the  premises ;  there 
was  so  much  said  of  burglaries  in  the  adjoining 
villages  and  Brown  and  Darley  were  getting  so 
nervous  at  the  reports.  Sidney  Wrendike  and 
sometimes  Lizzie  went  with  the  children,  or 
Harry  Dunn  and  his  dog,  of  whose  remarkable 


260  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

intelligence  and  accomplishmens  Harry,  since 
the  circus,  was  slow  to  speak.  At  times  Harold 
would  go  a  short  distance  with  them  and  then 
return  home. 

And  Harold  took  his  daily  morning  walk  regu 
larly,  unless  the  weather  was  wet.  Meeting,  on 
several  occasions,  a  young  man  who  seemed  not 
much  acquainted  with  Pippoton  roads,  yet  eager 
to  discover  all  their  attractions,  he  mentioned 
him  to  Ellen  Wrightman  the  evening  that  she 
called  with  Miss  Mordaunt.  She  said  he  must 
be  the  rector  of  the  new  chapel  on  the  Valley. 
A  few  mornings  later,  Harold  was  pleased  to 
meet  the  gentleman,  in  company  with  Miss 
Wrightman,  near  the  chapel ; — service  there  had 
just  closed,  and  Miss  Wrightman  gave  Harold 
an  introduction,  after  which  scarcely  a  morning 
passed  during  the  following  summer  months 
without  an  interview  between  these  two  lovers  of 
Nature,  and  a  strong  friendship  resulted  which 
soon  included  the  whole  Marston  family. 

When  Mrs.  Marston  saw  that  they  could 
reach,  by  a  straight  cut  across  their  own 
grounds,  the  new  chapel,  in  less  than  five  min 
utes,  she  had  begun  attendance  there  and  taken 
Mrs.  Mordaunt  and  Kuth.  Harold  found  Mr. 
Walker  so  interesting  in  conversation  that  he 
wished  his  father  to  meet  him;  so  one  Sunday 
they  also  attended  the  service.  Polly  and  Tad, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  261 

finding  the  path  across  the  fields  attractive,  fol 
lowed  them. 

When  the  chapel  was  reached  the  Rev.  Archi 
bald  Walker  had  gained  all  these  new  additions 
to  his  fold.  Before  the  week  was  out  he  had 
visited  them  at  their  home.  Grandmother  was 
charmed  with  his  cordial,  unaffected  manners, 
and  all  the  boys  ready,  as  Tom  afterwards  said, 
"to  fight  under  his  banner,"  against  all  the  as 
persions  that  the  villagers  cast  upon  the  gilt  cross 
on  the  chapel-spire  and  upon  the  "  night-gowned 
boys  who  sang  prayers." 

And  Thaddeus  Thomdike  Marston  had  the 
proudest  and  happiest  day  of  his  life  when  he 
was  allowed  to  don  a  white  cotta,  and  to  sing 
the  Venite,  and  the  Glorias  in  the  morning  ser 
vice.  Pauline,  his  sister,  was  as  proud  and  as 
happy  as  he,  and  on  that  first  morning,  anxious 
that  he  should  make  a  favorable  "  first  impres 
sion,"  (as  when  he  first  entered  the  Pippoton 
graded  school)  she  followed  him  to  the  choir 
room.  She  had  surreptitiously  concealed  in  her 
pocket-handkerchief  his  dressing-comb,  and  she 
was  determined  that,  the  cotta  being  properly 
fitted  and  adjusted  by  the  ladies  of  the  Guild, 
his  hair  should  be  no  discredit  to  him.  Taddie 
was  shocked — became  crimson,  then  frightfully 
pale  at  Polly's  assurance.  The  new  growth  of 
the  carroty  locks  was  rebellious,  needed  frequent 


262          THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

correction,  as  Taddie  well  knew — bnt  to  be  at 
tended  to,  here — in  the  church  I — Still  Polly  kept 
on  with  her  motherly  attention  to  the  stubborn 
head-gear,  and  whispering — "  First  impres- 
sions,"  subdued  both  Taddie's  rebellious  temper 
and  the  recalcitrant  locks — to  the  amusement  of 
the  ladies  of  the  guild,  and,  subsequently,  to  the 
satisfaction  of  Thaddeus  himself. 

The  August  vacation  was  about  half  over.  At 
the  close  of  one  hot  day,  when  the  air  seemed  too 
oppressive  for  any  kind  of  sport,  all  the  boys 
were  lounging  on  the  grass  at  the  shady  side  of 
the  house.  The  rest  of  the  family  were  on  the 
veranda. 

"  I  wish  somebody  or  something  would  come," 
said  Taddie.  "  Vacation  is  dreadful  tiresome." 

"  There's  someone  or  something  now,"  said 
Roland. 

"John  Wrightman  and  Ellen!"  exclaimed 
Robert 

"Good!"  said  Roland. 

John  Wrightman  had  come  to  see  if  Mr.  Mars- 
ton  was  willing  to  let  Tom  and  Robert  and  Rol 
and  camp  out  with  his  brother  Ben  and  himself 
the  next  week,  and  if  these  boys  would  like  to 
try  camping  with  them. 

Tad  quickly  begged  an  invitation  which  was 
as  quickly  granted.  Mr.  Marston  had  no  objec 
tion — if  they  wouldn't  go  far  from  home. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  263 

The  boys  were  wild  with  delight  when  John 
said — "  Only  half  a  mile  over  the  hill,"  and  their 
mother  added:  "They  couldn't  expect  to  camp 
nearer." 

"  You  might  drive  over  and  spend  a  day  with 
us,"  said  John. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "  We'll  come  over 
with  the  ladies."  "  Now  preparing  the  outfit  is 
next  in  order.  Edith  must  have  an  eye  to  the 
culinary  department." 

"  Wear  your  oldest  clothes,  boys,"  said  John. 
"And  just  go  in  for  the  jolliest  time  you  ever 
thought  of." 

Ellen  came  from  the  library  where  she  had 
been  looking  over  the  August  magazines.  She 
said  she  guessed  John  had  forgotten  the  lecture 
in  the  chapel  to  which  they  must  go,  and  with 
hasty  good-bys,  they  closed  the  interview. 


264  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  CHAIN  OF  CIRCUMSTANCES. 

"  Bertha,  dear,"  said  Ellen  Wrightman  one 
morning,  "  Miss  Johnston  has  scarcely  any  salt 
for  her  egg.  You  ought  to  have  filled  the  salt 
cellars." 

Bertha  rose  instantly  from  the  table,  went  to 
the  dining-room  closet  and  hurriedly  laid  hold 
of  the  salt  bag.  It  slipped  from  her  hand  and 
the  contents  fell  to  the  floor.  Her  cool,  calm 
temperament  was  not  easily  disturbed.  She 
knew  there  was  salt  in  the  kitchen  closet  and 
from  that  the  salt-cellars  were  soon  replenished. 

Miss  Johnson  seemed  excited  and  nervous,  but 
she  made  no  allusion  to  the  accident  till  after 
breakfast.  As  she  and  Mrs.  Lambert  were  on 
their  way  to  their  rooms,  she  whispered.  "  I 
suppose  you  noticed  I  didn't  take  any  more 
salt." 

Mrs.  Lambert  had  not  noticed. 

"Then  you  didn't  mind?  Well,  there's  trou 
ble  coming  to  this  house;  and  if  I'd  taken  some 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  265 

of  the  salt  I  should  have  been  liable  to  have  had 
a  share  of  it,  and  I'd  no  idea  of  running  such  a 
risk." 

"  I  thought  that  old  superstition  was  exploded 
long  ago,"  said  Mrs*.  Lambert.  "  I  don't  believe 
spilling  salt  is  any  more  likely  to  bring  trouble 
than  spilling  sugar." 

"  You'll  see,  you'll  see,"  returned  Miss  John 
ston,  "  and  before  the  day  is  out.  Mark  my 
words.  I'm  not  going  to  say  anything  to 
frighten  Ellen;  she  has  cares  enough  now  with 
out  anticipating  anything  additional.  But  this 
is  going  to  be  an  unfortunate  day." 

How  far  her  prognostications  were  verified 
will  soon  be  made  evident. 

If  ever  the  Wrightmans  had  know  a  more 
prosperous  day  they  were  not  aware  of  it, — John 
found  a  nest  of  a  dozen  eggs,  in  the  forenoon, 
in  an  old  barrel  under  the  barn ;  Ben,  after  din 
ner,  took  fishing  line  and  hook,  and  went  to  the 
brook,  returned  with  ten  fine  perch;  Bertha 
picked  from  the  vines  along  the  wall  of  the  pas 
ture,  three  quarts  of  nice  blackberries;  Frank 
sold  two  tons  of  hay,  and  Ellen  secured  a  new 
boarder.  All  were  in  the  best  of  spirits  and  could 
not  refrain  from  mentioning  their  good  fortune 
when  Mrs.  Lambert  and  Miss  Johnson  took  their 
seats  at  the  supper  table.  Mrs.  Lambert,  with 
an  amused  look,  congratulated  them ;  Miss  John- 


266  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ston  kept  solemn  silence,  which  subdued  the 
boys  at  once;  and  the  meal  went  on  with  its 
usual  decorum. 

It  was  now  Mrs.  Lambert's  turn  to  speak  of 
the  morning's  accident.  She  had  a  dry,  humor 
ous  way  of  commenting  on  matters  and  things 
at  times,  and  the  complete  refutation  of  Miss 
Johnston's  superstition,  by  the  accounts  given 
by  the  family  of  the  day's  doings,  amused  her 
greatly. 

"  Don't  you  wish  now  you  had  a  share  in  their 
trouble,  Miss  Johnston?  If  you  had  taken  salt, 
who  knows  but  you  would  have  had  news  of  a 
legacy,  or  something?  I  begin  to  regret  my  dis 
belief  in  spilled  salt." 

"  The  day  isn't  over  yet,"  returned  Miss  John 
ston,  with  a  sagacious  nod,  and  the  stolid  solem 
nity  of  an  old  Greek  sybil. 

Immediately  after  supper  John  proposed  that 
Ellen  should  have  a  long  talked  of  drive  to  Lant- 
wood,  she  had  had  a  busy  day  and  must  need 
recreation.  The  new  boarder  wasn't  coming  till 
the  next  week;  she  would  have  ample  time  to 
prepare  for  him.  John  was  not  so  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  a  gentleman-boarder  as  the  rest  of 
the  family  were.  Still,  he  hoped  they  would  find 
his  society  desirable.  Taking  boarders  in  the 
plain,  home-like  way  that  Ellen  did,  had  its  dis 
advantages  and  its  aggravations.  He  hoped  this 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  267 

would  be  the  last  season  she  would  need  to  sub 
ject  herself  to  such  trials. 

Though  she  did  not  care  to  go,  and  dreaded 
the  jolting  in  the  old  buggy  over  the  rocky  road 
to  Lantwood,  she  hadn't  the  heart  to  deny  John 
the  gratification  of  feeling  that  he  was  doing  it 
for  her  benefit;  and,  throwing  aside  Ben's  coat 
that  she  was  trying  to  furbish  with  new  cuffs 
and  facings,  declared  she  was  ready  to  start. 
"  Bertha  must  go  too,"  she  said ;  "  Frank  and 
Ben  can  be  house-keepers." 

John  drove  gaily  up  Pleasant  Hill  and  along 
the  river  road  till  he  came  to  a  turn  that  led  to 
Lantwood  and  gave  them  a  view  of  Mr.  Willard's 
new  house.  They  had  heard  much  of  its  ele 
gance,  so  he  went  along  more  leisurely  in  order 
to  take  in  all  its  beauty. 

Ellen  had  begun  to  wonder  where  the  accom 
modations  for  stock  and  servants  could  be  when 
she  was  startled  by  a  vehicle  rushing  past,  so 
near  as  to  strike  against  the  wheels  of  the  buggy, 
and  going  furiously  down  the  steep  road.  It 
was  a  light  wagon  occupied  by  two  men. 

"'Jehu,  the  son  of  Nimshi,'  drives  there,  I 
should  thing,"  said  John,  his  face  pale  at  their 
narrow  escape  from  overturning. 

"  Who  can  it  be?  "  said  Ellen. 

"  One  of  them  looked  like  the  gentleman  who 
is  coming  to  board  next  week,"  said  Bertha, 


263  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  he  looking  around  the  neigh 
borhood.  I  hope  he  don't  expect  to  drive  in  that 
fashion  through  Pippoton  streets,"  said  John. 
"  I'm  glad  I've  had  a  specimen  of  his  style. 
He'll  not  have  the  handling  of  reins  over  Ned  or 
Bob.  My  horses  are  not  to  be  treated  like  steam 
engines,  I  can  tell  him." 

Ruth  Mordaunt  and  Polly  Marston  were  walk 
ing  home  from  Lizzie  Wrendike's  as  John  drove 
along  the  road  to  Pleasant  Hill. 

"  There's  that  wagon  again,"  said  Bertha. 
"  The  men  seem  to  be  asking  Polly  something. 
It  has  stopped." 

Presently  the  wagon  moved  on,  met  the 
Wrightman's  buggy,  and  one  of  the  men  raised 
his  hat  and  bowed  to  Ellen.  "  It  is  the  new 
boarder,  but  he  wasn't  the  driver,"  she  said. 

"  A  dashing,  dandified  chap,"  said  John.  "  I 
don't  like  his  looks.  What  is  his  name?  " 

Ellen  at  first  could  not  recall  the  name,  but 
after  a  moment's  thought  said,  "  Freeling,  I  be 
lieve.  I  am  not  quite  sure.  I  never  can  remem 
ber  names  till  they  are  familiar." 

Ellen  asked  John  to  stop  a  minute  while  she 
spoke  to  Polly,  as  she  had  the  curiosity  to  know 
what  the  gentleman  had  said  to  her. 

"  He  asked  the  way  to  Lantwood  and  how  far 
it  is,"  replied  Polly. 


A  Vehicle  rushing  past  .   .  strikes  against  the  wheels  of 
the  buggy. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  269 

"  He's  our  new  boarder,  coming  next  week," 
said  Bertha. 

"  I  knew  him,  but  I  don't  think  he  knew  me," 
said  Ruth — "  this  shade  hat  comes  down  so  low. 
It  was  Mr.  Simpkins  of  Denver. — He  called  at 
our  house  twice  when  we  lived  in  Denver." 

"  Oh  no,  it  can't  be  he — that  isn't  his  name," 
said  Ellen. 

John  drove  on  again.  "  I'm  surprised  that 
you  should  be  so  inquisitive,  Nelly,"  he  said. 
"  It  was  of  no  consequence  to  us,  what  he  said, 
or  where  he  was  going." 

Driving  to  the  Centre,  a  few  minutes  chat 
with  the  neighboring  farmers  there,  and  then 
the  drive  home,  took  longer  than  John  had  ex 
pected  ;  it  was  quite  dark  before  he  turned  into 
the  lane  leading  to  home.  There  seemed  a 
strange  commotion  in  the  house  as  they  drew 
near; — lights,  flitting  hither  and  thither  through 
the  rooms,  and  people  passing  to  and  fro.  A 
saddled  horse  was  at  the  hitching-post,  and  Dr. 
Mason's  gig  fastened  near  the  front  gate. 

"  Something  has  happened,"  said  Ellen,  "  per 
haps  one  of  the  boarders  is  sick."  She  jumped 
from  the  buggy  before  John  had  stopped  the 
horse.  Bertha  followed,  and  ran  on  before  her, 
to  the  door.  Mr.  Marston  came  out  as  they  ad 
vanced,  Frank  and  Ben  with  him.  All  were 


270  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

talking  rapidly.  John  threw  down  the  reins  and 
dashed  toward  them  in  great  alarm. 

"  Glad  you've  arrived,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  hur 
riedly,  "  I'll  be  back  soon.  Ben  will  explain," 
and  he  mounted  his  horse  and  was  up  the  lane 
and  out  on  the  country  road  in  a  twinkling. 

Ellen  and  Bertha  were  trembling  with  appre 
hension.  They  stood  leaning  on  the  fence  while 
John  plied  Ben  with  questions.  Ruth  Mordaunt 
told  him  she  had  seen  a  man  whom  she  had 
known  in  Denver,  and  that  Bertha  said  he  was 
coming  here  to  board." 

"  Oh !  I  see  now,"  said  John.  "  Go  on.  What 
has  taken  place  since?  " 

Ben  said  that  as  soon  as  Ruth  had  told  the 
story,  Mr.  Marston  rode  directly  over  here  to 
know  the  truth,  and,  while  he  and  Frank  were 
talking  with  him,  Mr.  Dunn  had  brought  two 
men  who  had  met  with  an  accident,  to  stay  over 
night.  One  of  <the  men  said  he  had  engaged 
board  with  Miss  Wrightman.  It  was  sooner 
than  she  expected  to  accommodate  him,  but,  as 
he  and  his  friend  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to 
be  thrown  from  a  carriage,  he  hoped  she'  be  kind 
enough  to  take  them  in.  Mr.  Dunn,  returning 
from  market  saw  them  on  the  roadside — one  man 
not  able  to  stand,  the  other  suffering  from  a 
wound  in  the  head  that  bled  profusely.  They 
begged  his  help  and  he  took  them  into  his  wagon, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  271 

and  drove  according  to  their  directions  to  Miss 
Wrightinan's.  Mr.  Marston  had  recognized  the 
men — had  met  them  in  Denver.  They  were  agi 
tated — very  much  excited  when  he  called  them 
by  name.  Mr.  Marston  sent  Frank  for  Dr. 
Mason,  and  then  he  and  Ben  assisted  them  into 
the  north  bedroom  where  they  now  were.  Dr. 
Mason  was  with  them.  One  man's  ankle  was 
so  badly  sprained  he  wouldn't  be  able  to  walk 
for  weeks.  The  other — he  who  had  engaged 
board — had  a  dangerous  cut  in  the  head  which, 
the  weather  being  so  unfavorable,  the  doctor 
feared  would  be  fatal.  Mr.  Marston  had  gone  to 
Hillsford  for  a  lawyer,  and  (Ben  believed)  for 
a  police  officer.  Mr.  Marston  had  heard  of  some 
thing  they  had  done  in  Denver  that  wasn't  ex 
actly  right. 

Ellen  was  shocked.  "  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
have  them  here,"  she  said.  "Just  think  how 
dreadful  it  is,  John.  And  those  ladies  upstairs 
—what  will  they  think?  " 

She  seemed   on  the  point  of  crying. 

"  The  ladies  are  all  right,"  said  Ben.  "  Frank 
and  I  had  to  answer  Mrs.  Lambert's  bell — she 
was  disturbed  by  the  noise.  And  then  Dr.  Mason 
went  up  and  told  her  and  Miss  Johnston  that 
the  poor  fellows  were  suffering  greatly,  and 
must  remain.  Dr.  Mason  hasn't  heard  what  Mr. 
Marston  knows  about  them." 


272  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Of    course    they    must    stay,"    said    John. 

"Where  else  can  they  go?  It  would  be  inhu 
man  to  send  them  into  'the  road  to  die — no 
matter  who  they  are,  or  what  they  have  done. 
It  is  going  to  be  hard  on  you,  Nelly,  I  know,  but 
we  boys,  and  Bertha,  too,  will  help — we  must." 

Dr.  Mason  came  from  the  bedroom  to  say  that 
one  of  the  men  was  very  anxious  to  see  Mr.  Mars- 
ton  ;  "  His  wound  is  still  bleeding,"  said  the  doc 
tor.  "  If  it  goes  on  as  it  has  for  the  last  half 
hour,  he  can't  live  till  morning.  He  has  ques 
tioned  me  very  closely  and  I  have  told  him  his 
danger.  I  will  remain  through  the  night  with 
the  poor  fellow." 

It  was  midnight  before  Mr.  Marston  returned. 
He  had  sent  a  telegram  to  Mr.  Doakson ;  had  se 
cured  a  lawyer  and  a  policeman,  and  had  called 
at  his  own  home  and  told  his  wife  he  shouldn't 
leave  the  Wrightmans  till  morning,  perhaps  not 
then. 

Mrs.  Marston  was  slow  to  comprehend  the 
fact  that  Walton  and  Simpkins  were  so  near; 
She  went  to  Grandmother  Marston  to  ask  her 
opinion  of  the  matter. 

"  It  is  not  at  all  improbable,  Mary,"  she  said, 
in  reply  to  what  Mrs.  Marston  told  her; — 
"  merely  a  chain  of  circumstances,  simple  and 
natural  enough,  have  brought  about  this  result." 

"  So  singular  that  the  real  culprits  should  be 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  273 

sent,  as  it  were,  to  our  very  doors,"  she  re 
turned.  "  You  know  Who  orders  all  things,  my 
dear,  and  how  useless  it  is  'to  try  to  escape  the 
consequences  of  sin." 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  and  Ruth  were  asleep.  Mrs. 
Marston  looked  in  and  concluded  not  to  disturb 
them  and  soon  retired  herself.  At  daybreak  she 
was  astir,  aroused  Tom,  and  sent  him  to  his 
father,  but,  before  Tom  had  gone  half  way  he 
met  his  father,  and  they  returned  to  Pleasant 
Hill  together. 

Mr.  Marston  had  a  sorrowful  account  of  the 
night's  events  to  give  his  wife.  He  assured  her 
that  there  was  no  mistake  (as  she  had  feared 
there  might  be)  for  the  men  had  established 
their  identity  before  a  lawyer,  had  confessed 
their  guilt  and  expressed  contrition.  Walton 
was  now  in  custody,  in  the  keeping  of  a  police 
man,  according  to  instructions  received  in  re 
sponse  io  a  telegram  he  had  despatched  to  Mr. 
Doakson.  Simpkins  had  died  just  before  day 
light;  and  Walton,  no  less  by  his  mental  dis 
tress  than  by  his  physical  suffering  was  reduced 
to  a  most  deplorable  condition.  It  was  too  much 
to  expect  of  the  Wrightmans,  situated  as  they 
were  to  keep  him  and  the  policeman  till  he  was 
able  to  go  to  Denver,  and  he  had  arranged  with 
Dr.  Mason's  approval  for  his  removal  to  Pleas 
ant  Hill.  He  could  occupy  the  guest  chamber, 


274          THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

which  as  she  know,  was  quite  secluded.  Wal 
ton  was  not  to  be  considered  at  all  in  the  ques 
tion,  for  he  was  under  police  control,  and  would 
be,  until  delivered  to  Denver  authorities. 

"And  you  were  right,  Mary,"  continued  Mr. 
Marston,  "  Simpkins  and  Walton  committed  the 
theft  attributed  to  William  Mordaunt.  And 
that  poor  boy  had  been  fleeced  by  them  in  pay 
ment  of  fictitious  debts  to  the  base  ball  club. 
Oh !  Simpkins  was  a  villain !  He  had  borne  an 
assumed  name  for  years — was  one  of  a  gang  who 
have  a  systematized  scheme,  which  they  have 
worked  to  an  almost  incredible  extent. 

Mrs.  Marston  had  sat  gazing  at  her  husband 
as  if  horror  struck,  during  this  recital.  "  Oh, 
Philip !  it  is  shocking,"  she  said.  "  Almost  too 
shocking  for  belief."  Covering  her  face  with 
her  hands,  she  sobbed  aloud  for  a  few  moments. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  275 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  THIEVES  RECEIVE  THEIR  PUNISHMENT. 

WALTON  showed  no  emotion  at  Simpkin's 
death.  There  was  a  look  in  his  face  like  that  of 
an  animal  when  it  finds  itself,  after  a  des 
perate  fight,  in  the  hands  of  its  captors — a 
dogged,  defiant,  yet  despairing  look.  He  was 
very  reticent,  remaining  silent  except  when  ques 
tioned,  and  then  replying  in  monosyllables. 
When  Dr.  Mason  left,  soon  after  sunrise,  he  was 
apparently  free  from  pain,  and  the  doctor  said 
that  by  keeping  qniet  he  would  remain  com 
fortable,  and  might  be  taken  any  time  to  Mr. 
Marston's.  Toward  noon  he  was  lifted  by  his 
keeper  and  John  Wrightman  to  a  wagon  and 
slowly  driven  there.  Made  a  prisoner  by  the  in 
jury  to  his  ankles,  there  was  no  need  of  irons, 
and  he  was  spared  that  ignominy. 

Mrs.  Marston  was  careful  to  arrange  matters 
in  her  family  in  such  a  manner  that  Walton 
might  arrive  and  be  taken  to  the  room  prepared 
for  him,  without  meeting  anyone  but  Mrs.  Mars- 


276  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

ton.  Mrs.  Mordaunt  wished  to  look  upon  him 
as  he  passed  in.  "  No,  Maria,  said  Mrs.  Mars- 
ton  firmly,  "  I  am  not  willing.  If  the  man  has 
any  sense  of  shame  for  his  conduct,  or  any  re 
morse  for  his  treatment  of  Willie,  he  shall  not 
be  subjected  to  any  unnecessary  suffering  while 
he  is  in  my  house." 

He  was  well  aware  that  Mrs.  Mordaunt  and 
her  two  remaining  children  left  Denver  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marston,  but  had  not  known  in  what 
part  of  New  England  the  Marstons  lived.  When 
Simpkins  inquired  the  way  to  Lantwood,  he 
recognized  Ruth.  And  that  discovery  led  to 
such  impatience  with  the  horse  as  to  cause  the 
over-throw  which  brought  Simpkins  to  his  death, 
and  made  him  a  prisoner.  His  keeper  attended 
to  all  his  wants;  and  in  the  remote  part  of  the 
house  where  he  was  placed,  nothing  was1  heard 
or  seen  of  the  family.  Several  days  passed  thus, 
and  he  was  momently  expecting  the  arrival  of 
the  sheriff  from  Colorado.  He  wished  to  see 
Mrs.  Mordaunt  before  leaving;  for  his  treatment 
of  William  hung  heavily  upon  his  conscience. 
Down  under  the  hard  crusts  of  envy  and  covet- 
ousness  that,  after  his  acquaintance  with  Simp- 
kins,  he  had  allowed  to  gather  in  his  heart,  lay 
a  tender,  warm  spot,  still  ready  to  mark  the  dif 
ference — and  to  feel  it  keenly — between  right 
and  wrong.  And  this  would  give  him  no  rest, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  277 

now  that  he  felt  persuaded  that  this  injured 
mother,  whom  he  had  wounded  through  the  hurt 
which  he  had  given  her  son,  was  near.  In  his 
lonely  chamber,  with  no  one  to  speak  to  but  his 
keeper,  at  long  intervals,  and  with  nothing  to 
occupy  the  time,  thought  was  busy.  His  own 
mother's  anguish  of  mind  at  his  misconduct,  of 
which  she  was  at  present  unaware,  rose  vividly 
to  his  imagination,  and  he  longed  to  give  this 
mother  the  slight  solace,  which  a  few  words  of 
his  attesting  to  the  unflinching  truth  and  honesty 
of  her  boy  could  afford.  Breaking  his  long  si 
lence,  he  told  his  keeper  what  he  desired,  and 
why.  Mr.  Marston  was  agreeably  astonished 
when  the  keeper  came  to  him  with  Walton's  re 
quest.  "  'Tis  the  best  news  I've  heard  for  a  long 
time,"  he  said.  "  The  man  is  not  so  depraved 
as  I  supposed.  She  will  be  glad  to  talk  with 
him." 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  went  immediately  and  spent 
ten  minutes  in  hearing  what  he  had  to  say. 

The  robbery  they  had  charged  upon  William 
he  told  Mrs.  Mordaunt  was  "  the  meanest "  they 
had  ever  committed,  and  he  had  always  re 
gretted  it.  He  was  desperate  for  money  to  pay 
his  gambling  debts  and  was  persuaded  by  Simp- 
kins.  It  was  done  without  forethought.  If  he 
had  taken  time  to  consider  the  shamefulness  of 
such  a  dastardly  blow  to  the  lad's  good  charac 
ter,  he  would  not  have  had  a  hand  in  it. 


278  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

There  was,  in  all  this,  no  comfort  to  Mrs. 
Mordaunt.  Yet  when  she  saw  to  what  a 
wretched  condition  the  man  had  been  reduced  by 
his  misdeeds,  she  forgot  the  bitterness  she  had 
cherished  towards  him  and  merely  said :  "  If  I 
could  find  my  son,  could  have  him  with  me  once 
more,  all  you  have  told  me  should  be  forgotten. 
To  think  of  him  as  a  friendless  outcast,  where  I 
can  never  reach  him,  is  agony  almost  unendur 
able." 

"  He  must  have  gone  to  California,"  said  Wei- 
ton.  "  Or,  perhaps  across  the  Pacific.  At  one 
time  I  made  inquiries,  and  traced  him,  I  think, 
some  distance  on  the  Pacific  road.  He  is  such 
an  attractive  little  fellow  he  must  have  made 
friends.  I  wish  I  could  know  surely  where  he  is. 
Sometimes  I  have  said  to  myself — "  He  paused, 
sighed  heavily,  then — in  a  choking  voice — "  But 
it  is  too  late  now." 

"  It  is  never  too  late  to  do  right,"  said  Mrs. 
Marston. 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  said  she  hoped  that  at  some 
future  time  she  should  see  full  proof  of  this.  He 
thanked  her,  and  when  she  left  sobbed  like  a 
child. 

Two  days  later  came  the  sheriff  with  a  requi 
sition  from  the  governor,  and  the  guilty  man 
went  with  him  to  Colorado  where  he  was-  soon 
tried  and  sentenced  to  a  long  imprisonment. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  279 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HAROLD  DISCOVERS  HIS  VOCATION. 

WITH  the  re-opening  of  school,  matters  in  the 
Marston  family  seemed  to  regulate  themselves. 
Outdoor  work  of  the  farm,  as  well  as  indoor, 
having  suffered  many  interruptions  during  the 
past  four  or  five  weeks,  now  went  on  systematic 
ally,  as  usual ;  and  as  a  consequence  the  children, 
whose  exuberance  of  spirits  had  been  allowed 
unchecked,  became  gradually  more  quiet,  more 
subdued  in  voice  and  mien, — so  readily  does  the 
susceptible  nature  of  childhood  yield  to  the  de 
moralizing  influence  of  disorder,  and  so  quickly 
does  it  demonstrate  the  beneficial  effects  of  sys 
tematized  action. 

Fortunate  indeed,  was  this  for  Harold,  who, 
for  weeks  after  his  day  at  camp  was  restless  and 
nervous,  sensitive  to  noise  and  any  manner  of 
unquiet  movement,  and  deeply  depressed  in 
spirits.  As  the  weeks  passed  and  he  had  not 
rgained  sufficient  strength,  nor  yet  the  desire  to 
take  again  his  place  in  the  family,  his  father  con- 


280  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

suited  Dr.  Houghton.  Except  that  he  now  had 
no  cough,  he  felt  that  he  was  no  better  than 
when  he  came  to  Pleasant  Hill,  and  both  he  and 
Mrs.  Marston  too  were  getting  discouraged 
about  the  boy. 

Dr.  Houghton,  a  man  of  high  health  and 
hearty  good  nature,  was  well  fitted  to  visit  a  de 
spondent  patient.  The  very  tones  of  his  voice, 
as  he  entered  Harold's  chamber,  seemed  to  im 
part  energy  to  his  drooping  form  and  a  more 
hopeful  light  to  his  languid  eyes. 

"  You  are  not  to  be  cooped  up  in  this  way,  in 
doors,  in  our  fine  September  weather — if  you  ex 
pect  to  call  me  your  friend,"  he  said  by  way  of 
greeting.  "  If  you  can't  go  down  yourself, 
Brown  and  Darley  must  take  you  down  and  put 
you  into  the  hammock, — and  there  you  must  stay 
all  the  hours  of  daylight.  Air  and  sunshine  in 
plenty,  you  must  have.  But  no  books.  You've 
been  studying — trying  to  keep  up  with  your 
class,  I  suppose;  and  all  that  must  be  stopped." 

Harold  replied  that  he  had  given  up  all 
thought  of  preparing  for  college. 

"You  have?  I  shan't  allow  that,  either. 
Study  you  may — and  shall,  but  not  yet.  You 
must  get  fortified  for  cold  weather  that's  your 
duty  now." 

When  Dr.  Houghton  returned  to  Hillsford  he 
went  directly  to  Mr.  Marston's  office,  and  told 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  281 

him  he  found  Harold  in  a  very  bad  way.  "  He 
must  have  something  to  occupy  his  mind — to 
take  him  out  of  himself.  It  seems  he  has  given 
up  his  studies  completely.  And  that  is  the  worst 
thing  in  the  world  for  him,"  he  said. 

"  I'll  see  about  that,"  said  Mr.  Marston.  "  My 
wife  has  said  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  told 
young  Dinsmore  so,  I  believe.  But  I  didn't  sup 
pose  he  was  really  in  earnest." 

"  Very  much  in  earnest,  my  dear  sir.  And  we 
must  get  that  notion  out  of  his  head  as  quickly 
as  possible.  Another  thing — he's  in  no  condi 
tion  to  stand  the  cold  weather.  It  will  not  do 
to  keep  him  here  at  the  north  through  the  win 
ter.  You  must  take  him,  before  the  frost  comes, 
to  Colorado  or  Florida — Florida  is  best, — and 
keep  him  there  till  spring." 

Mr.  Marston  said  in  an  agitated  voice — "  Do 
you  really  feel  his  case  is  serious  enough  for 
that?  He  has  been  quite  nicely  for  part  of  the 
summer,  but  about  a  month  ago  over-taxed  his 
strength  one  day,  and  perhaps  took  a  slight 
cold." 

"  It  is  a  serious  case,  Marston.  This  winter 
at  the  south  will  probably  set  him  well  forward. 
With  favorable  weather  here,  next  summer,  he 
may  be  strong  enough  to  withstand  another  win 
ter  at  home  and  have  no  further  trouble." 

He  paused,  as  if  expecting  reply;  but  Mr. 


282  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Marston  remained  silent  and  he  went  on,  "  Go 
to  Jacksonville,  or  to  St.  Augustine.  There  you 
will  have  steady,  temperate  weather  all  winter, 
thermometer  registering  from  60  to  80  clear, 
healthful  dry  air.  Let  him  have  this  to  antici 
pate  for  the  next  three  weeks,  and  he'll  be  all 
ready,  amply  able  to  take  the  journey.  Perhaps 
the  easier  way  will  be  by  steamer  to  Savannah, 
stop  there  a  few  weeks,  and  then  go  by  rail  to 
St.  Augustine.  After  Christmas  have  another 
change;  take  the  steamer  for  thirty  miles  along 
the  coast  and  then  twenty-five  miles  up  the  river, 
St.  John's,  to  Jacksonville.  You  shall  have  let 
ters  to  my  cousin  Herbert,  in  St.  Augustine  and 
to  my  friend,  Dr.  Hawks,  in  Jacksonville." 

Mr.  Marston,  nervously  folding,  unfolding, 
and  refolding  an  old  letter,  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  creases  thus  made,  appeared  like  one  in  a 
dream.  But  he  heard  every  word  the  doctor  said, 
with  a  painful  sense  of  what  it  all  meant  for 
himself  and  the  rest  of  his  family,  as  well  as  for 
Harold. 

The  door  of  an  inner  room  was  opened  hastily. 
This  roused  him.  He  turned  and  Dr.  Houghton 
also,  and  met  the  pleasant  glance  of  Mr.  Howard, 
the  junior  partner,  who  being  aware  of  Harold's 
precarious  health,  seeing  Dr.  Houghton's  look 
of  deep  concern,  and  Mr.  Marston's  pallor,  asked 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  283 

sympathetically,  if  the  doctor  had  discovered  a 
new  phase  of  his  patient's  disease. 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,"  returned  the  doc 
tor.  "  Symptoms  in  process  of  development  are 
often  misleading.  I  am  hoping  to  arrest  certain 
indications  before  I  must  pronounce  them  symp 
toms  of  a  new  phase.  And  I  want  you,  and  your 
head  clerk  Morris  to  grant  Marston  leave  of 
absence  for  the  winter.  I  am  going  to  banish 
Harold  to  Florida,  and  his  father  must  be  with 
him." 

"  There  is  no  appeal  from  that  sentence,  I 
presume,"  said  Mr.  Marston,  very  soberly. 

Dr.  Houghton  shook  his  head,  very  leisurely 
consulted  his  watch  and  returned  it  to  its  fob. 

A  stool  stood  near  Mr.  Marston.  Mr.  Howard 
seated  himself  and  laid  his  hand  on  Mr.  Mar- 
ston's  shoulder. 

"  Morris  will  do  all  in  his  power  for  the  inter 
ests  of  the  firm,  that  goes  without  saying.  And 
I, — well,  it  will  be  harder  for  you  to  be  away 
than  for  me  to  stay  and  manage  the  business,  I 
am  fully  persuaded  of  that.  And  I  rather  think 
a  friendship  of  twenty  years  can  take  a  little 
office  work  without  grumbling." 

Marston's  eyes,  now  lifted  to  Howard's,  were 
suspiciously  moist.  With  a  sad  smile  he  silently 
grasped  his  partner's  hand. 

"  Now  that's  all  right,  just  as  I  knew  it  would 
be,"  said  Dr.  Houghton,  with  a  musical  little 


284  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

laugh.  "  You  ought  to  go  with  an  easy  mind  as 
far  as  busines  is  concerned.  Get  off  before  the 
month  is  out  and  God  go  with  you,  and  bring 
you  safely  home  again  with  your  boy  well  ad 
vanced  on  the  road  to  health." 

"You  will  look  after  him  till  we  go?"  asked 
Mr.  Marston. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I'll  find  time  for  a  friendly  call  oc 
casionally.  But  he's  not  to  be  alarmed  about 
himself,  mind  that." 

When  Harold  was  told  by  his  father  to  get 
rested  and  stronger  as  fast  as  he  could,  for  he 
wished  to  take  him  in  a  few  weeks  to  Florida 
to  pass  the  winter,  he  asked  in  great  surprise 
how  he  could  leave  his  business  so  long,  and 
wouldn't  it  cost  a  great  deal. 

So  the  question  was  settled  and  before  Dr. 
Houghton's  next  call  Harold  had  partially  re 
gained  that  measure  of  improvement  which  he 
had  lost  through  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of 
those  few  days  of  company  and  camp  life. 

While  Mrs.  Marston  busied  herself  in  prepar 
ing  her  husband's  and  son's  wardrobes  for  their 
winter  absence  from  home,  Mrs.  Mordaunt  did 
much  to  relieve  her  of  household  cares. 

But  Mrs.  Mordaunt's  thought  were  more  often 
on  her  absent  son  than  on  Henry  or  on  what  she 
was  doing  for  Mrs.  Marston.  Walton's  remark 
that  William  perhaps  had  crossed  the  Pacific 


He  silently  grasped  his  partner's  hand. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  285 

often  recurred  to  her  mind.  He  might  after  all, 
being  innocent,  have  gone  to  Calcutta  to  tell  his 
uncle  James  of  his  wrongs  in  the  hope  that  he 
could  give  him  employment.  There  had  scarcely 
been  sufficient  time  for  him  to  have  reached  Cal 
cutta  before  his  uncle  went  to  Tokio.  And  he 
might  not  be  able  to  find  out  where  his  uncle  had 
gone.  She  mentioned  these  thoughts  one  day  to 
grandmother  Marston  and  was  glad  to  learn  that 
she  had  come  to  a  similar  conclusion,  and  act 
ing  upon  her  advice  to  write  to  James  she  wrote 
her  letter  that  same  evening  and  mailed  it. 

Letters  from  Walter  Dinsmore  came  often  to 
Harold  expressing  great  concern  for  his  health 
and  regret  that  he  did  not  rally  from  the  re 
lapse.  A  brief  answer  was  all  that  Harold  could 
give  him,  he  had  neither  the  energy  nor  the 
strength  for  more.  But  he  was  delighted  after 
three  days'  silence  to  receive  a  letter  from  Wal 
ter  stating  that  in  accordance  with  his  mother's 
earnest  request  and  Harold's  great  desire,  he 
had  taken  his  final  and  passed  through  it  with 
honors. 

"Think  of  that,  dear  old  Hal,"  he  wrote. 
"  From  the  Hillsford  High  school — honors! 
Isn't  Pa  Wolcott  proud?  You'd  better  believe. 
Prouder  than  Pa  Dinsmore  and  Ma,  and  your 
humble  servant  rolled  into  one.  And  now  there 
must  be  digging,  the  stoutest  kind,  I  can  tell 


286  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

you.  For  honors  must  be  upheld  for  the  fam 
ily's,  and  the  school's,  good  name.  Oh!  if  you 
were  only  in  the  same  category,  old  chum,  the 
world  would  have  nothing  more  glorious  for  this 
giddy  neophyte." 

"  Giddy,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Marston,  to  whom 
Harold,  who  had  never  yet  withheld  his  letters 
from  his  parents'  eyes,  had  shown  the  blotted 
scrawl.  "  His  head  is  fairly  turned  by  his  suc 
cess." 

"  No  wonder,"  rejoined  Harold.  "  It  was  a 
terrible  ordeal  for  one  so  self  distrustful,  so 
sensitive,  and  so  conscientious  as  he.  I  wonder 
what  he  will  say  when  he  knows  I  am  going  to 
Florida." 

In  reply  to  this  news  Harold  sent  one  of  the 
briefest  of  all  his  notes ;  he  expressed  joy  at  Wal 
ter's  success  in  the  strongest  terms,  and  then 
told  him  that  Dr.  Houghton  had  ordered  him  to 
Florida;  had  also  prescribed  study  in  moderate 
doses,  to  be  increased  with  the  gain  in  health 
and  strength.  This  brought  a  telegram  of  warm 
est  congratulations  and  hopes. 

Harold  was  drinking  in  the  sunshine  of  this 
telegram  no  less  than  that  gilding  the  ailanthus 
and  larch  trees,  one  bright  afternoon  toward  the 
close  of  September,  when  his  father,  driven  home 
as  usual  with  Tom  and  Edith,  tossed  a  letter, 
as  Darley  drew  the  horse  to  a  halt.  The  letter 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  287 

should  have  gone  to  his  mother,  who  sat  near 
him,  but  dropped  at  his  feet. 

"  It  has  fallen  to  you,  Harold,"  said  his  father. 
"  You  shall  have  the  privilege  of  reading  it  first. 
The  mail  was  just  in  as  I  left  the  office,  and  I 
couldn't  stop  to  break  the  seal,  though  I  know 
from  the  address  of  the  envelope  who  wrote  it." 

It  was  from  Mr.  James  Marston.  He  had  re 
turned  to  Tokio,  had  decided  to  remain  there  for 
the  present,  as  he  wished  to  be  near  his  children. 
His  friend,  Dr.  Hamilton,  was  with  him.  Dr. 
Hamilton  had  been  making  improvements  on 
the  machine  that  was  to  bring  him  so  much 
money.  After  its  completion  he  intended  to 
bring  it  to  the  United  States.  He  had  once  lived 
in  Pippoton  and  wondered  if  Mr.  Philip  Mar- 
ston's  farm,  at  Pleasant  Hill,  was  near  his  old 
home.  This  machine,  was  the  result  of  the  doc 
tor's  thought  and  labor  for  years.  While  in 
Pippoton  he  supposed  that  he  had  brought  it  to 
perfection;  but,  upon  testing  a  model,  defects 
were  manifested  which  led  to  a  disaster  that 
well-nigh  discouraged  him  and  was  the  cause  of 
his  leaving  home.  If  this  machine  were  finished 
soon,  the  doctor  wished  him  to  accompany  him 
to  America  and  assist  him  in  getting  it  patented. 
So  he  had  decided  not  to  enter  into  business 
again,  but  prepare  to  bring  his  children  and 


288  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

spend  the  rest  of  his  days  somewhere  in  New 
England. 

When  Harold,  after  reading  the  letter,  handed 
it  to  his  father,  grandmother  Marston  remarked, 
"  He  says  nothing  about  Maria  or  her  troubles." 

"  Sure  enough !  I  declare  I  never  thought  of 
that,"  said  her  son,  "  till  this  instant.  But  I 
wrote  my  reply  to  his  last  letter  in  such  a  hurry, 
because  of  the  business  intelligence  that  needed 
prompt  decision,  that  I  made  no  allusion  to  fam 
ily  matters." 

When  Mrs.  Mordaunt  heard  of  the  letter  she 
asked  if  it  contained  anything  about  William. 
Mr.  Marston  apologized  for  his  omission  of  fam 
ily  affairs,  "  But,  of  course,"  said  he,  "  if  James 
had  seen  or  known  anything  of  him  he  would 
have  mentioned  it." 

"  Your  letter,  Maria,"  said  grandmother, 
"  will  induce  him  to  make  enquiries.  Next 
month  you  may  expect  something  definite  one 
way  or  the  other." 

A  day  or  two  afterward  she  received  a  letter 
bearing  the  Tokio  postmark,  but  forwarded  from 
Denver.  This,  too,  was  from  Mr.  James  Mar 
ston,  written  a  few  days  after  the  date  of  his 
letter  to  his  brother.  It  was  evident  that  he  sup 
posed  Maria  was  still  living  in  Denver.  The  let 
ter  stated  that  a  few  days  previous,  a  tall,  pale 
lad  came  to  his  boarding-place  and  asked  to  see 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  289 

him.  The  lad  had  arrived  that  morning  from 
Calcutta,  and  by  advice  of  the  Captain  of  the 
vessel  in  which  he  came,  had  called  on  the  mis 
sionaries  who  told  him  where  to  find  his  uncle, 
for  the  lad  was  William  Mordaunt.  He  soon 
told  his  story. 

"  And  a  pitiful  one  it  was,"  wrote  Mr.  James 
Marston.  "  I'll  not  give  it  here.  He  is  now 
sitting  by  me  and  says  you  shall  know  it  all 
sometime.  For  the  present  he  will  stay  with  me. 
My  advice  to  you  is  to  go  back  to  Hillsford  and 
make  a  little  home  there  for  yourself  and  your 
children.  When  I  return  to  New  England,  which 
I  hope  I  will  be  before  long,  he  can  meet  you 
there." 

Mrs.  Mordaunt  read  the  letter  twice  to  be  sure 
that  she  understood  it  fully,  and  then  handed  it 
to  Mr.  Marston. 

"  Well,  I  declare! "  as  he  ran  his  eye  over  two 
or  three  pages.  "  William's  troubles  couldn't 
have  turned  out  better,  Maria.  Of  course  James 
didn't  know  you  had  left  Denver.  Willie  is  wel 
come  to  a  home  with  us  as  well  as  yourself,  as 
long  as  you  choose  to  stay.  Just  write  imme 
diately  and  tell  him  so.  When  I  answer  James' 
letter  to  me,  I  shall  say  the  same." 

Then  he  read  the  letter  aloud  and  there  was 
general  rejoicing.  Even  Maud,  hearing  so  much 
talk  about  "  cousin  Willie,  poor  boy ! "  took  from 


290  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

her  pocket  the  few  coppers  she  had  been  jingling 
and  asked  "  aunt  Mi'a "  to  send  them  in  her 
letter. 

"  I'll  have  him  in  my  room,"  said  Taddie, 
"you  can  put  another  bed  there  as  well  as  not, 
mama.  And  he  shall  have  the  first  bath  every 
morning." 

"  No !  "  cried  Tom.  "  He's  nearest  my  age. 
He  must  come  into  my  chamber.  There's  an 
old  commode  in  the  attic;  I'll  get  it  down,  and  a 
bedstead  too;  they'll  both  do  for  me.  He  shall 
use  mine." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  Mrs. 
Marston  and  Mrs.  Mordaunt  had  gone  to  tell 
Mrs.  Sinclair  and  her  sister,  Maria  Mordaunt, 
about  the  letter  that  had  been  forwarded  from 
Denver,  and  from  which  they  had  learned  that 
Dr.  Hamilton  intended  to  return  with  Mr.  James 
Marston  to  New  England,  with  which  news  both 
were  delighted. 

"  Why !  it's  almost  a  miracle,"  said  Mrs.  Sin 
clair,  "  to  think  of  again  seeing  Richard  Hamil 
ton!  I'm  sure  we  shall  give  him  a  warm  wel 
come,  even  if  he  did  squander  so  much  of  his 
father's  and  our  poor  Henry's  money." 

"  I'm  sure  he  meant  always  to  pay  Henry ;  and 
he  felt  so  unhappy  because  he  couldn't  let  us 
know  all  his  plans  that  it  made  him  about 
crazy,"  Miss  Maria  managed  to  say  in  a  weak, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  291 

tremulous  voice;  and  in  spite  of  her  efforts  at 
self  control,  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  and 
she  left  the  room. 

"  What  a  noble  nature  she  has,"  said  Mrs. 
Marston.  "  Perhaps  she  will  prefer  to  be  alone 
for  a  while;  so  just  give  her  our  love  and  sym 
pathy  and  ask  her  to  come  and  let  me  tell  her  of 
Harold's  plans  for  the  winter." 

Mr.  Marston  was  prepared  to  start  the  first  of 
next  week.  He  had  already  given  Brown  and 
Darley  instructions  about  harvesting  and  dis 
posing  of  the  crops,  and  orders  in  regard  to 
their  winter  work. 

The  day  for  beginning  the  journey  was  bright, 
but  a  sharp  north  wind  swept  the  red  leaves 
from  the  maples  and  sent  a  chill  that  foretold 
wintry  rigors  to  all  who  had  unwarily  exposed 
themselves  to  its  presence. 

Maud  came  for  so  many  last  kisses  that,  fin 
ally,  with  grandmother  Marston's  cautions  about 
exposure  to  dampness,  if  rain  fell  while  they 
were  on  the  steamer,  both  Harold  and  his  father 
were  so  confused  they  were  setting  off  without 
their  hats. 

Ruth  was  the  first  to  notice  this,  mentioned 
it  to  Edith,  who  stood  behind  her,  smiling. 

Then  they  were  quickly  in  the  buggy  and  Dar 
ley  urging  Prince  down  the  driveway.  Brown 
had  begged  leave  to  take  the  trunks  along.  He 


292  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

had  them  in  the  wagon  and  Charlie  trudged  on 
carefully  with  the  load  to  the  station,  his  head 
up,  sniffing  the  bracing  autumn  breeze,  appar 
ently  feeling  as  proud  as  Prince  for  his  part  of 
the  journey. 

In  a  few  days,  however,  came  a  letter  from 
Atlanta,  written  by  both  Mr.  Marston  and  Har 
old.  They  had  yielded  to  a  pressing  invitation 
from  a  travelling  companion,  Mr.  Fred  Lam 
bert,  and  were  now  at  the  Lambert  mansion,  a 
fine  old-style  Southern  homestead.  Harold  had 
enjoyed  St.  Augustine,  but  Atlanta  seemed 
much  more  desirable  for  residence.  The  Lam 
berts  were  very  hospitable,  were  overwhelming 
them  with  kind  attentions.  And  Harold  seemed 
to  have  gained  his  full  health,  could  walk  two 
or  three  miles  without  fatigue,  had  "  an  enor 
mous  appetite,"  and  "  the  digestion  of  an  os 
trich."  "  Except  fearing  the  effect  of  March 
winds  in  New  England,"  Mr.  Marston  wrote, 
"  he  would  come  home  next  month ;  but,  after 
gaining  so  much,  we  will  run  no  risk,  so  don't 
look  for  us  till  May." 

Harold  wrote  that  he  had  become  much  inter 
ested  in  the  culture  of  cotton.  Mr.  Fred  Lam 
bert  had  taken  him  and  his  father  to  three  cot 
ton  plantations,  one  of  which  he  owned.  "  You 
knew,  mother,"  he  added  at  the  close  of  the 
letter,  "  how  much  I  enjoy  watching  plant  life. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  293 

I  have  indulged  that  taste  largely,  here.  The 
orange  groves,  the  cotton  plantations,  and  the 
sugar-cane,  as  well  as  the  fig  trees,  and  all  the 
other  trees  here,  have  been  a  great  delight.  The 
roses,  too,  and  all  the  flowers.  But  the  cotton 
plant  is  the  greatest  wonder,  and  has  my  highest 
admiration.  Just  think,  mother  dear,  what  a 
blessing  that  plant  is  to  the  human  race !  When 
in  thought  I  trace  it  through  all  its  changes,  and 
the  marvellous  beauty,  grandeur,  to  which  it 
can  be  made  to  attain,  rises  before  me  in  imag 
ination,  I  am  ready  to  bow  down  and  worship  it, 
and  thank  God  for  it,  rather — as  Linnaeus  did 
for  the  daisy.  Oh !  it  seems  to  me  that  next  to 
wheat,  it  is  the  best  of  earthly  gifts,  and  that  a 
cotton  planter  is  a  man  to  be  envied,  because  of 
the  benefits  he  is  instrumental  in  dispensing  to 
the  world.  I  like  the  rice  plant,  but  haven't  been 
able  to  become  much  acquainted  with  it,  though 
it  is  such  an  excellent  article  for  food,  and  for 
management  in  other  important  ways.  But  the 
damp  swamps  where  it  must  be  grown,  I  found, 
are  unfavorable  for  health,  and  I  haven't  dared 
to  investigate  its  habits.  Perhaps  when  I  get 
thoroughly  well,  in  sturdy  health,  I  may  take  up 
that  plant  for  study." 

Mrs.  Marston  took  the  letter  to  grandmother, 
who  sighed  as  she  finished  it.  "  That  boy  has 
discovered  his  vocation.  You  must  make  up 


294  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

your  mind,  Mary,  to  let  him  follow  it.  He 
doesn't  want  a  college  education,  doesn't  need 
it,  And  he'll  do  more  good  in  taking  up  the  cul 
ture  of  cotton  there,  and  helping  and  encourag 
ing  the  poor  laborers  he  would  employ  in  that 
work,  than  any  professors  or  preachers  in  New 
England  can  begin  to  do  in  what  they  consider 
their  calling.  Yes;  he  has  certainly  been  called 
to  do  this  work  of  raising  those  poor  wretches 
who  have  fallen,  through  ignorance  and  neglect, 
into  all  the  degradation  of  which  our  race  is 
capable." 

Mrs.  Marston  shook  her  head.  "  It  certainly 
looks  like  it,  but  I  don't  want  to  think  of  it, 
we'll  wait  till  they  come  home,  before  I  give  it 
the  thought  it  requires." 


.THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  295 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

WILLIE'S  CONFESSION. 

THROUGHOUT  the  whole  winter,  Mr.  Philip 
Marston  and  his  eldest  son,  Harold,  watched 
with  absorbing  interest  all  newspaper  accounts 
of  the  weather  at  the  North,  in  the  expectation 
of  leaving  Atlanta  early.  Though  the  first  part 
of  the  season  had  been  mild,  after  Christmas  it 
was  severe,  and  not  till  the  middle  of  April  was 
the  ground  clear  of  snow.  It  was  May  before 
they  left  Atlanta.  They  made  the  journey  home 
by  rail,  stopping  a  few  days  at  Washington  to 
go  over  the  Government  buildings,  and  to  at 
tend  the  deliberations  of  Congress. 

They  reached  Pleasant  Hill  two  days  before 
the  time  they  had  set  for  their  arrival.  But 
they  were  none  the  less  welcome,  though  their 
greeting  was  much  more  quiet,  on  that  account, 
than  the  children  intended  it  to  be.  Taddie  was 
the  first  to  spy  the  railroad  carriage  from  Hills- 
ford  coming  up  the  driveway,  and  managed  to 


296  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

hunt  up  Roland's  banner  of  Welcome,  which  had 
done  service  on  a  previous  occasion ;  and  waved 
it  joyfully  at  the  door  till  they  came  up  the 
veranda  steps. 

Mrs.  Marston  was  astonished  to  see  how  stout 
and  well  her  husband  and  Harold  were.  When 
the  family  were  all  together,  there  seemed  to  be 
no  end  to  the  questions  passed  to  and  fro  among 
them,  so  curious  were  the  stay-at-homes  to  know 
all  that  the  travellers  had  seen  and  done;  and 
they,  in  their  turn,  eager  to  hear  what  had  been 
going  on  in  their  absence. 

Taddie's  alligator,  but  it  was  a  stuffed  one, 
was  forth-coming  before  Harold  had  been  at 
home  an  hour.  Instead  of  the  parrot  that  Polly 
had  wished  for,  she  had  a  lovely  pink  feather 
fan,  "  enough  sight  better  than  a  green  parrot," 
Taddie  said,  who  was  quite  contented  with  the 
stuffed  alligator.  Roland  had  the  live  mocking 
bird,  which  grandmother  thought  present  enough 
for  the  whole  family.  Robert  had  a  live  turtle, 
tame  enough  to  follow  when  he  whistled,  "  an 
ugly,  clumsy  thing,"  Polly  called  it,  but  Bert 
found  it  very  interesting.  Every  member  of  the 
household,  Susan  and  Lottie  as  well  as  Barley 
and  Brown,  had  something.  Brown  said  his 
orange-wood  cane  made  him  a  gentleman,  and 
went  swaggering  home  with  it. 

Late  in  the  evening,  when  the  children  were 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  297 

in  bed  (Tom  and  Edith  were  not  considered 
children)  Mr.  Marston  asked  his  wife  what  she 
should  say  to  be  told  he  had  bought  a  cotton 
plantation  in  Georgia. 

"  It  is  no  more  than  I  expected  after  Harold's 
and  your  last  letter,"  she  replied. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it?  Shall  we  go  there 
to  live?" 

"  That  is  for  you  to  decide.  You  left  with  me 
the  decision  about  leaving  Hillsford  for  Pleasant 
Hill,  so  I  return  you  the  privilege." 

"  That's  fair,"  he  rejoined.  "  Well,  we,  with 
grandmother  and  the  children,  will  remain  here 
a  while  longer,  I  think,  perhaps  always.  Harold 
will  probably  return  there  in  the  autumn,  have 
an  eye,  part  of  the  year  to  my  possessions  there ; 
and,  no  doubt,  find  the  work  which  Dr.  Hough- 
ton  prophesied  he  had  before  him  to  do." 

Harold  looked  up  with  a  bright  smile.  We 
shall  all  be  there  together,  well  and  happy,  some 
day,  I  think,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Marston  hadn't  been  home  a  week  when  a 
letter  arrived  from  his  brother  James,  saying 
he  might  expect  to  see  him,  and  his  children,  and 
William  Mordaunt,  and  perhaps  Dr.  Hamilton 
with  them,  very  soon.  On  the  twenty-fifth  of 
May  they  arrived  in  Boston  and  immediately 
took  a  train  for  Hillsford,  and  then  a  hack  for 
Pleasant  Hill.  A  jolly  group  they  were;  Mr. 


298  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

James  Marston 's  two  boys,  Melvin  and  Lewis, 
twelve  and  fourteen  years  old,  William  Mor- 
daunt,  nineteen,  full  of  life  and  high  spirits; 
Mr.  James  Marston,  a  wide  awake  man  of  forty, 
and  Dr.  Hamilton  about  the  same  age,  somewhat 
sedate,  yet  evidently  ready  to  make  himself 
agreeable. 

"  A  houseful  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Philip  Marston, 
when  he  returned  from  his  business  one  after 
noon  to  find  the  new  arrivals  on  the  veranda,  or 
on  the  grass  beneath  it,  chatting  and  laughing 
merrily.  "  I  hope  we  can  make  you  all  com 
fortable,"  and  his  laugh  was  soon  the  loudest 
among  them. 

"  In  the  gymnasium,"  said  Bert,  "  there's 
plenty  of  room  for  a  big  shakedown,  or  for  a  Jim 
Crow  dance." 

"  I  must  have  a  look  at  that  gymnasium,"  said 
Mr.  James  Marston.  "  Dr.  Hamilton  is  anxious 
to  see  how  the  old  balcony  has  become  such  a 
fine  looking  hall ;  he  should  have  the  first  claim 
to  its  privileges,  too,"  and  without  more  ado  all 
the  masculines  rushed  for  the  entrance,  and 
spent  over  an  hour  in  examining  the  room  and 
testing  its  advantages  for  athletics. 

Mr.  Philip  Marston  was  surprised  to  find  Dr. 
Hamilton  such  an  agreeable  gentleman,  and  so 
interesting  in  conversation.  He  was  so  easy  in 
his  manners  that  the  ladies  were  loud  in  his 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  299 

praise,  grandmother  being  especially  pleased  by 
his  deference  to  her.  Mrs.  Mordaunt  was  much 
affected  at  first  meeting  William,  who  was  in 
clined  to  be  shy  and  distant,  though  Tom  was 
very  cordial,  and  the  other  boys  full  of  good- 
natured  talk  with  all  the  cousins. 

All  the  family  were  impatient  to  hear  what 
William  Mordaunt  had  to  say  about  his  disap 
pearance,  and  in  the  evening  he  told  them  where 
he  had  been  and  what  had  befallen  him. 

His  first  thought  on  leaving  Mr.  Doakson's 
store  was  to  escape  arrest,  knowing  that  in  Den 
ver  summary  measures,  in  case  of  a  robbery  were 
quickly  in  force.  Fortunately  he  had  received 
pay  for  a  week's  services  that  very  morning.  So 
he  had  means  to  buy  a  ticket  to  San  Francisco 
and  soon  decided  to  go  there.  He  reached  that 
city  without  trouble,  but  was  in  constant  fear 
of  detection.  Being  hungry,  and  without  money, 
he  obtained  kitchen-work  in  a  restaurant,  and 
did  all  sorts  of  mean  drudgery.  A  month  of  this 
dreary  life  brought  illness.  He  was  discharged, 
weak  and  penniless.  At  this  crisis  he  recollected 
the  letters  his  mother  had  occasionally  received 
from  his  uncle  James.  Perhaps  he  would  be 
friend  him.  A  steamer  for  Calcutta  lay  at  the 
wharf.  He  begged  to  be  allowed  to  work  his 
passage,  and  was  not  refused.  Arriving  in  Cal 
cutta  he  was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  find  his 


300  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

uncle  and  was  in  a  more  deplorable  condition 
than  ever,  for  in  this  strange  city,  of  so  many 
different  nationalities  and  languages,  he  could 
not  make  his  wants  understood.  Day  after  day 
he  wandered  about,  sometimes  earning  a  meal 
by  running  with  a  message  for  the  grandees  of 
the  higher  caste;  as  often  going  supperless  to 
bed,  among  bales  and  boxes  on  the  wharves,  and, 
perhaps,  in  the  morning,  earning  a  few  coppers 
by  helping  to  load  or  unload  the  vessels  in  port. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  said  Polly,  who  had  listened  with 
a  flushed  face  and  beaming  eyes,  "  didn't  you 
cry  every  night?" 

"  I  guess  you  asked  our  Heavenly  Father  to 
show  you  the  way  to  uncle  James,  didn't  you, 
Willie?  "  asked  Tad. 

Willie  nodded  assent  and  resumed  his  story: 
"  One  day  while  helping  to  unload  a  vessel,  I 
heard  the  supercargo—" 

"  Oh,  what's  that?  "  said  Tad. 

"  >Sh,  'sh !  "  whispered  Polly,  "  we'll  find  out 
in  definitions  to-morrow." 

"  I  heard  the  supercargo,"  repeated  Willie, 
"  when  giving  orders  for  marking  boxes,  call  my 
uncle's  name,  coupled  with  Tokio.  I  followed 
those  boxes  as  they  were  taken  on  board,  and 
begged  to  be  sent  with  them.  At  first  the  man 
was  unwilling.  But  after  consultation  with 
other  officers  of  the  ship,  consented.  A  little 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  301 

later  I  told  the  captain  my  story  and  he  said 
I  should  have  my  mess  with  the  sailors.  So 
I  wasn't  hungry  again;  and  he  was  very  kind 
to  me  all  the  voyage,  and  when  we  arrived,  ad 
vised  me  to  go  to  the  missionary's  house.  There 
I  was  told  where  my  uncle  James  lived." 

Polly  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  when  he 
ceased  speaking,  which  was  echoed  by  several 
others  in  the  room. 

"  A  hard  experience,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Philip 
Marston.  "  I  hope  the  rest  of  your  life  will  be 
prosperous  and  happy.  I  shall  be  glad,  and  so 
shall  we  all  be  glad,  to  do  what  lies  in  our 
power  to  make  it  so." 

Dr.  Hamilton  was  desirous  of  seeing  the  arti 
cles  that  had  been  taken  from  the  closed  bal 
cony.  Mr.  Philip  Marston  had  long  ago  ordered 
Darley  to  put  them  in  an  empty  room  in  the 
carriage-house.  Early  the  next  morning,  Mr. 
James  Marston  and  Dr.  Hamilton  went  with  his 
brother  Philip  and  spent  some  time  looking  over 
the  broken  wires,  tubes,  and  discs.  And  Mr. 
Philip  Marston  called  his  brother's  attention 
particularly  to  the  curious  wheel  that  Mr.  Good 
win  had  thought  might  have  been  intended  to 
generate  electricity,  and  to  apply  it  as  a  motive 
power  to  some  special  industry. 

"You  and  Mr.  Goodwin  are  right,"  returned 
the  doctor. 


302  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  One  of  the  neighbors,"  said  Mr.  Marston, 
called  it  the  wheel  of  flame." 

"  That  was  one  of  the  names  I  had  for  it,"  re 
plied  Dr.  Hamilton,  giving  the  wheel  a  twirl 
that  set  its  spokes  glittering  in  the  sunshine. 
"  I  had  a  splendid  scheme,  'twould  have  been  a 
magnificent  thing  if  I  could  have  perfected,  em 
bodied,  fully,  I  mean,  my  idea.  But  after  an 
immense  amount  of  toil  and  money,  too,  spent 
upon  it,  I  found  it  was  a  failure.  I  don't  mind 
telling  you  this  now,  because  my  friend  here, 
your  brother,  will  bear  me  out  in  saying  that  I 
have  succeeded  at  last  in  inventing  something 
that  is  as  near  perfection  as  man's  work  can  be. 
Something,  too,  of  much  greater  use,  real  use, 
than  this  would  have  been." 

"  I  see  a  few  things  here,"  said  Mr.  James 
Marston,  a  few  things  in  the  shape  of  the  tubes 
that  resemble  some  portions  of  your  recent  in 
vention." 

"  O  yes !  The  principle  is  at  bottom  the  same. 
And  though  I  have  applied  that  principle  to  a 
more  homely  use,  that  of  stone  cutting,  I  am 
proud  of  my  invention." 

"  And  well  he  may  be,  well  he  may  be,"  broke 
in  Mr.  James  Marston,  with  a  significant  cant  of 
his  head.  "  It  is  a  giant  in  power,  cuts  the  solid- 
est  granite  like  wax,  and  its  value  is  inesti 
mable." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  303 

"  Now  that  the  subject  of  good  roads  and  road- 
building  is  receiving  careful  attention,  I  think 
you  may  certainly  be  considered  a  public  bene 
factor,"  said  Mr.  Philip  Marston. 

"  So  I've  told  him,"  rejoined  his  brother. 
"  Good  roads  you  know,  according  to  what  polit 
ical  economists  say,  are  the  first  step  toward 
higher  civilization;  and  crushed  stone  is  a  sine 
qua  non  in  the  building  of  good  roads." 

A  moment  of  impressive  silence  followed  while 
Dr.  Hamilton  set  aside  the  wheel  saying  as  he 
did  so,  "When  after  the  accident  to  this  con 
trivance,  I  was  so  mortified  by  its  failure,  and 
irritated  by  the  ridicule  that  I  received  in  con 
sequence,  and  so  distressed  by  misrepresentations 
and  unjust  accusations,  that  I  fled  the  country,  I 
little  thought  that  I  should  be  satisfied  to  be 
the  inventor  of  a  stone  crusher." 

He  laughed  good-humoredly,  then  went  on, 
"  But  I  am,  and  more  than  satisfied.  I  think  I 
have  good  reason  to  expect  large  returns  from 
the  patent." 

It  was  soon  understood  that  Dr.  Hamilton  was 
waiting  the  arrival  of  a  gentleman  from  Pennsyl 
vania  who  had  offered  him  a  large  sum  for 
his  invention,  and  that  after  the  business  had 
been  settled,  the  doctor  would  be  in  very  pros 
perous  circumstances.  Mr.  James  Marston  had 
been  made  a  confidant,  and  would  assist  him 


304  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

in  the  legal  settlement  of  his  affairs.  Debts  that 
had  caused  him  great  anxiety  would  be  liq 
uidated  as  soon  as  possible;  then  he  would 
engage  in  business,  and  spend  the  remainder  of 
his  days  in  Pippoton. 

As  he  would  be  likely  to  have  large  correspon 
dence  and  much  difficult  business  to  transact 
when  the  gentleman  in  Pennsylvania  was  ready 
to  take  the  patent,  it  seemed  best  for  him  to 
make  the  hotel  on  the  Valley  road,  his  head 
quarters'.  He  had  corresponded,  since  coming 
to  Pleasant  Hill,  with  Dr.  Houghton,  in  order 
to  know  the  condition  of  his  father's  estate,  of 
which  Dr.  Houghton  was  made  agent  three  years 
previous.  To  him  also  he  wrote  concerning  his 
sister,  and  was  glad  to  know  that  she  would  like 
to  make  a  home  for  him  in  Pippoton. 

If  all  his  plans'  could  be  carried  out,  he  would 
retrieve  the  good  name  of  his  parents,  and  Pippo 
ton  people  should  see  that  he  would  make  the 
prosperity  of  the  village  his  chief  aim.  He  did 
not  wish  to  become  rich,  was  willing  to  spend  a 
great  deal  to  raise  the  standard  of  business  and 
of  education  here,  where  his  childhood  was 
spent.  He  expressed  gratitude  for  Mr.  James 
Marston's  friendship  and  for  the  hospitality  of 
Mr.  Philip  Marston  and  his  family,  hoped  to  find 
much  happiness  in  spending  the  rest  of  his 
life  among  them,  and  that  they  would  assist  him 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  305 

in  his  efforts  to  regain  the  good  will  of  the  vil 
lagers; — and  then  engaged  rooms  at  the  Good 
rich  hotel,  near  the  new  chapel  on  the  Valley 
road. 


306  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

DR.  HAMILTON  PAYS  ALL  DEMANDS. 

DR.  HAMILTON,  though  busy  with  his  corres 
pondence  the  larger  part  of  every  day,  found 
time  to  call  upon  the  family  at  Pleasant  Hill. 
These  interviews  were  mutually  enjoyed,  for  the 
doctor  was  interested  in  the  bright,  merry  chil 
dren  and  young  people,  with  their  lively  chat 
about  passing  events  and  their  eager  question 
ings,  and  observations,  not  only  upon  what  they 
knew  personally,  but  upon  matters  that  con 
cerned  his  pasty  and  which  seemed  now  to  be  set 
forth  in  their  true  light.  The  elders  of  the  Mars- 
ton  family  began  to  feel  that  he  was  not  grant 
ing  them  the  favor  that  they  had  expected  from 
his  acquaintance,  when  one  evening  at  twilight 
Mrs.  Sinclair  came  hurriedly  to  the  door  and 
asked  if  Thomas  would  kindly  run  down  to  Dr. 
Mason's  and  request  him  to  call,  her  sister  Maria 
seemed  quite  ill. 

Dr.  Hamilton  recognized  her  instantly,  and 
expressing  much  regret  at  her  sister's  illness, 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  307 

offered  to  go  himself  for  the  physician.  Thomas 
however,  by  the  time  she  had  finished  speaking 
had  snatched  his  hat  and  started  down  the  road 
halfway  to  the  doctor's  office,  and  Mrs.  Sin 
clair,  followed  by  Mrs.  Marston,  hastened  home. 

Mrs.  Sinclair  managed  to  whisper  before  they 
gained  her  gate,  that  Maria  had  been  far  from 
well  for  the  week  past,  but  would  be  offended  if 
she  knew  that  a  doctor  had  been  called,  as  she 
considered  herself  in  good  health  and  this  was 
only  a  slight  cold.  Still  Mrs.  Sinclair  felt  it 
would  be  wise  to  have  his  advice,  and  she  hoped 
Dr.  Mason  would  come  as  for  a  neighborly  call, 
and  wished  Mrs.  Marston  to  make  no  allusion 
to  it;  especially  urging  her  not  to  mention  that 
Dr.  Hamilton  was  at  Pleasant  Hill.  Taddie  and 
his  three  cousins  from  Japan  had  dropped  in  two 
or  three  times  and  told  them  of  their  nice  talks 
with  Dr.  Hamilton,  at  which  Maria  had  been  so 
affected  she  hoped  he  wouldn't  remain  long  in 
Pippoton. 

"  But  he  will,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Marston.  "  He 
has  come  to  make  Pippoton  his  home,  is  plan 
ning  to  build  a  house  precisely  like  the  old  man 
sion,  on  the  slope  below  the  Centre,  has  already 
begun  negotiations  for  buying  that  lot." 

"  Then  of  course  Maria  will  meet  him,  and  be 
fore  long,  too.  I  dread  the  effect  upon  her 
nerves,"  returned  Mrs.  Sinclair. 


308  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Mrs.  Marston  made  only  a  short  call,  did  not 
see  Miss  Mordaunt,  but  waited  in  the  parlor  un 
til  Dr.  Mason  had  made  his  visit.  He  said  Maria 
was  suffering  more  from  nervous  agitation  than 
any  settled  disease.  The  nervous  affection  was 
quite  serious,  and  she  must  be  kept  very  quiet; 
he  would  call  again  in  the  morning  and  decide 
then  on  what  course  to  take. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Dr.  Hamilton  called 
at  the  Mordaunt  home.  It  was  evident  that  the 
illness  of  Miss  Maria  was  of  serious  import  to 
him.  Mrs.  Sinclair  met  him  on  his  entrance  very 
cordially,  and  seemed  greatly  pleased  at  the  in 
terest  he  manifested.  He  asked  many  questions 
in  regard  to  the  life  the  sisters  had  led  since 
he  left  Pleasant  Hill.  "  Seven  years,  is  it?  "  he 
said,  after  Mrs.  Sinclair  had  implied  by  her  man 
ner  that  the  conversation  was  getting  wearisome, 
"  I  have  kept  no  account  of  the  time,  but  I  have 
felt  so  unhappy  at  the  thought  of  my  indiscreet 
management  of  my  earlier  life,  especially  at  my 
rash  departure  from  my  friends  here  at  Pleasant 
Hill,  and  have  been  so  continually  occupied  in 
devising  means  and  making  plans  for  retrieving 
the  unfortunate  past,  that  I  have  not  noticed 
how  the  years  have  flown." 

He  did  not  ask  to  see  Miss  Mordaunt,  but 
seemed  very  sad  at  Dr.  Mason's  fears  of  a  seri 
ous  turn  to  this  sudden  illness,  and  begged,  that 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  309 

he  might  come  again  later  in  the  day  and  hear 
the  result  of  the  doctor's  more  particular  diag 
nosis.  Leaving  Mrs.  Sinclair  anxious  and  sad, 
he  went  to  the  Marstons,  making  more  inquiries 
there  of  the  circumstances  of  Miss  Mordaunt 
and  her  sister.  In  the  course  of  conversation 
with  grandmother  Marston  and  Mrs.  Mordaunt, 
Dr.  Hamilton  said  that  he  expected  soon  a  re 
mittance  from  Pennsylvania  which  would  enable 
him  to  liquidate  all  debts;  assured  Mrs.  Mor 
daunt  of  his  strong  interest  in  William's  wel 
fare,  and  requested  her  to  make  arrangements 
to  receive  the  amount  due  her  husband's  estate, 
both  principal  and  interest 

At  his  second  call  on  Mrs.  Sinclair,  he  received 
no  farther  information  in  regard  to  Miss  Maria's 
illness.  The  doctor  had  made  his  visit,  but  could 
not  give  much  encouragement,  could  speak  no 
more  favorably  of  the  patient,  and  he  left  feel 
ing  very  sad  and  depressed,  but  set  himself  reso 
lutely  at  work  with  his  accumulated  corre 
spondence  till  late  in  the  day,  then  went  with  Mr. 
James  Marston  to  meet  the  proprietors  of  the 
Goodrich  Mill,  with  the  settled  purpose  of  effect 
ing  its  purchase  and  starting  its  business  anew. 
He  gave  this  friend  full  authority  to  conduct 
the  negotiations,  saying  that  he  felt  unable,  both 
physically  and  mentally,  to  manage  the  matter, 
could  do  nothing  till  he  heard  from  parties  in 


310  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Pennsylvania  in  regard  to  his  patent,  and  finally 
said  he  feared  he  was  breaking  in  health. 

"  Nonsense! "  returned  Mr.  James  (as  he  was 
now  frequently  called  in  distinction  from  his 
brother  Philip)  "you  are  tired,  perhaps,  and 
have  allowed  something  to  upset  your  accus 
tomed  equanimity,  in  your  renewal  of  old  ac 
quaintances  here.  Look  at  Harold,  see  how  well 
he  looks,  and  how  placidly  he  takes  the  rush  and 
stir  of  home-coming  and  all  its  concomitants; — 
yet,  from  what  he  tells  me,  he  could  only  crawl 
around  the  fields  here  last  year  at  this  time.  I 
tell  you,  man,  that  all  you  want  is  to  turn  back 
just  a  few  leaves  of  your  experience,  and  take 
up  the  story  of  your  life  once  more." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  would  like  to  do,  and  to 
do  it  immediately,"  came  the  doleful  response — 
"  one  leaf,  especially,  that  I  let  slip  from  my 
grasp,  in  weak  self-ignorance." 

"  Well,  then,  go  ahead,  without  distrust,  man 
age  things  the  best  way  you  can,  now,  and  start 
on  anew,"  said  Mr.  James.  "  That's  what  I've 
told  Maria's  Willie;  and  the  young  fellow  is 
showing  an  unknown  sight  of  pluck  and  perse- 
verence,  has  just  found  a  situation  at  the  Iron 
Works.  I  haven't  let  him  know  how  proud  I  am 
of  this  proof  of  his  ability.  But  he  shan't  moil 
and  toil  there  a  great  while.  As  soon  as  we  get 
the  Goodrich  mills  started,  I'll  have  him  there 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  311 

as  agent.  I  tell  you  that  boy  is  going  to  make 
his  mark  in  the  world,  and  the  hardship  and 
poverty  he's  endured,  has  brought  out  the  ster 
ling  gold  of  his  nature." 

"  I  believe  I  ought  to  feel  thankful  to  you, 
James,  for  this  scolding,"  returned  Dr.  Hamil 
ton,  with  an  attempt  at  a  laugh  that  ended  in 
a  sigh;  but  I  must  confess  that  I  do  not.  For 
the  future,  however,  I'll  keep  my  gloomy  fore 
bodings  to  myself." 

"  How  about  the  new  house  on  that  slope  at 
the  Centre?  "  asked  his  companion.  "  Have  you 
engaged  the  carpenters?  Philip  and  his  family 
have  a  friend,  a  perfect  paragon  of  a  carpenter, 
to  hear  his  men  tell  all  his  wonderful  qualities." 

"  Haven't  bought  the  lot  yet  and  cannot  till  I 
have  the  money  for  it  in  hand." 

"You'd  better  engage  him,  I  think;  his  ser 
vices  are  in  such  demand.  Goodwin,  his  name 
is;  Hillford  claims  him,  but  the  Marstons  are 
such  friends  of  his  that  if  you  go  with  merely  the 
introduction  of  the  Marston  youngsters,  he'll  be 
proud  to  do  you  service.  By  the  way,  Dr.  Ham 
ilton,  do  you  begin  to  realize  what  the  coming 
to  Pleasant  Hill  of  my  brother  Philip  and  his 
family  has  done  for  the  village?  Nearly  every 
person  I  meet  has  something  pleasant  to  say  of 
him  and  his  family.  And  that  gymnasium,  in 


312  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

what  was  once  the  closed  balcony,  is  building 
for  the  place  honor  and  renown,  wherever  it  is 
mentioned,  and  crowding  out  the  remembrance 
of  scorn  and  ridicule  of  which  it  was  once  the 
innocent  cause." 

Day  after  day,  Dr.  Hamilton's  calls  had,  for 
over  a  week,  no  favorable  returns  in  regard  to 
Miss  Maria's  condition;  Mrs.  Sinclair,  though 
not  so  despondent  as  at  first,  still  had  little 
hope  of  ultimate  recovery,  the  nerves  seemed  so 
uncontrollable.  But,  at  last,  one  day,  she  told 
him  that  her  sister  had  asked  if  he  were  still  in 
Pippoton,  and  if  he  had  been  at  Pleasant  Hill. 
This  led  him  to  say  that  when  she  became  strong 
enough  he  wished  to  speak  with  her.  So  Mrs. 
Sinclair  ventured  to  mention  that  Maria  had 
always  firmly  believed  in  him  and  insisted  that 
he  would  some  time  return.  And  she  noted  the 
flush  and  the  smile  which  overspread  his  features 
at  these  words.  With  no  little  trepidation  in 
both  manner  and  words,  he  then  confided  to  her 
a  sorrowful  account  of  the  greatest  disappoint 
ment  of  his  life.  His  father's  anger  at  what  he 
considered  a  waste  of  money  in  gratifying  his 
ambition,  he  averred  was  more  easy  to  bear,  than 
the  realization  that  this  disappointment  might 
have  been  prevented  by  timely  seizure  of  op 
portunities  then  near  his  grasp. 

Then  he  continued  that  his  ambition,  in  the 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  313 

one  particular  channel  that  at  that  time  domi 
nated  his  life,  had  at  last  succeeded.  As  the  re 
sult  of  that  success  he  was  to-day  expecting  to 
remove  the  blot  which  had  for  so  many  years 
rested  on  his  name.  A  letter  from  Mr.  David 
Ingersoll,  a  wealthy  manufacturer  of  Philadel 
phia,  reached  him  this  morning.  The  letter  con 
tained  a  draft  of  large  amount,  in  payment  for 
a  machine  of  his  invention  recently  patented. 
This  money  he  should  use  immediately  in  pay 
ing  all  debts. 

In  corresponding  with  his  sister,  now  living 
in  Oakland,  California,  he  found  that  she  had 
changed  her  mind  about  coming  east  and  making 
a  home  for  him  with  herself.  She  had  recently 
married,  would  remain  in  Oakland.  "  As  heir 
to  her  father's  property,"  he  said,  "  she  was  the 
first  creditor  to  be  paid,  he  had  already  sent 
the  executor  of  his  father's  estate  a  note  in  full 
payment  of  all  his  indebtedness." 

"  To-morrow,"  he  continued,  "  I  shall  pay  the 
widow  of  your  brother,  Henry  Mordaunt,  not 
only  her  individual  claim  upon  his  estate,  but 
that  of  her  three  children  in  her  trust,  as  guar 
dian.  Henry  was  very  kind,  all  too  kind,  to  lend 
me  so  much  assistance.  This  debt  has  always 
been  a  great  mortification  and  a  great  anxiety; 
my  inability  to  meet  Henry's  demands  for  it,  a 
source  of  much  sorrow.  I  have  feared  that  my 


314  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

failure  to  pay  him  at  the  time  of  the  terrible 
catastrophe  that  wrecked  my  aims  and  my  hopes, 
caused  Henry's  decision  to  try  his  fortune  in  a 
Colorado  ranch  where  he  met  his  tragic  death; 
and  overwhelmed  his  wife  and  children  in  pov 
erty  and  despair.  Now,  this,  as  all  other  claims, 
shall  be  fully  satisfied.  Then,  as  far  as  money 
matters  are  concerned,  I  trust  I  shall  feel  easy, 
for  after  these  payments  I  shall  still  have  ample 
means  left  for  a  life  of  comfort. 

This  confidential  talk  relieved  Dr.  Hamilton's 
mind,  and  gave  him  courage  to  proceed  with 
plans  for  his  partnership  with  Mr.  James  Mar- 
ston  in  continuing  the  manufacture  of  cotton- 
cloth  in  the  Goodrich  Mills. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  315 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

A  BLUNDER  AND  ITS  CORRECTION. 

Miss  MARIA  MORDAUNT'S  recovery  was  very 
slow.  Yet  hope  never  failed  her  sister,  Mrs. 
Sinclair,  for  she  saw  that  health  was  surely  re 
turning,  and  waited. 

After  weeks  of  anxiety  Dr.  Hamilton  ventured 
to  accost  Dr.  Mason  as  he  was  leaving  the  house 
one  day,  and  inquired  so  closely  as  to  the  pa 
tient's  condition,  and  as  to  the  probable  time  of 
her  recovery  that  the  doctor  was  exasperated 
and  said  to  Mrs.  Sinclair  at  his  next  call,  "  How 
can  I  tell  when  she  will  be  free  of  those  nervous 
tremors?  Or,  when  she  will  be  well  enough  to 
receive  callers?  Or,  to  take  her  place  in  society? 
Nature  has  her  laws,  her  rules,  we  can  only  assist 
her  in  enforcing  them." 

But  at  last  one  day,  Mrs.  Sinclair  said,  (be 
fore  Dr.  Hamilton  could  make  his  first  enquiry), 
"  Maria  has  asked  to  see  you,  she  hopes  to  feel 
well  enough  at  noon,  if  you  can  come  then,  to  be 
below  stairs." 


316  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Oh !  but  I'll  come  up,"  he  said  gleefully. 
"  She  needn't  waste  her  strength  coming  over 
the  stairs." 

"  No,  no.  She  is  quite  set,  says  she  must  have 
changed  a  great  deal,  all  these  seven  years1,  in 
her  looks;  and  wouldn't  have  you  see  her  first 
anywhere  but  in  the  parlor." 

"  Why !  what  a  strange  idea.  You  haven't 
changed  a  particle  in  your  looks,  Mrs.  Sinclair, 
and  I  can't  think  she  has,  perhaps  this  sickness 
may  have  stolen  some  of  the  fresh  color  she  used 
to  have — I  shouldn't  notice  that,  however.  Tell 
her  I'll  be  sure  to  come  at  twelve  o'clock." 

At  the  stroke  of  twelve,  Richard  Hamilton 
started  on  the  much  dreaded,  yet  most  desired 
errand  of  his  life.  The  sun  was  hot  and  he  him 
self  in  a  fever-heat  of  anxiety,  but  before  he 
reached  the  Mordaunt  homestead,  he  found  him 
self  trembling  with  a  chill  of  apprehension,  and 
he  cast  about  for  some  thought  of  cheer  to  allay 
this  excitement. 

It  was  fortunate  for  him  that  a  neighbor  had 
required  some  favor  of  Mrs.  Sinclair  in  her 
kitchen,  and  so  his  knock  at  the  front  door  was 
not  answered.  An  open  window  of  the  parlor 
sent  him  a  welcome  in  a  voice  whose  tones  he 
had  never  forgotten,  Miss  Maria's,  he  was  sure; 
so  he  entered  confidently,  and  with  just  his  old 
assurance  exchanged  ordinary  greetings  with 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  317 

her;  grasped  frankly  her  extended  hand,  took  a 
chair  at  her  side,  and  found  himself  chatting 
immediately  with  her  on  ordinary  subjects  with 
the  freedom  of  the  days  so  long  ago.  In  amaze 
ment  at  the  unexpected  calm  that  had  followed 
his  chill  of  fear,  he  could  hardly  believe  that  he 
was  not  in  a  dream,  and  that  Maria  and  he  were 
living  over  the  past. 

Mrs.  Sinclair  soon  entered  the  parlor.  She 
was  greatly  surprised  to  see  her  sister's  calm  as 
pect  and  glowing  face,  that  told  the  pleasure 
Dr.  Hamilton's  conversation  was  affording  her. 
There  was  much  to  be  recalled  by  both  sisters 
that  seemed  of  importance  to  their  visitor,  and 
over  an  hour  passed  rapidly  in  mutual  enjoy 
ment  of  those  memories.  Then  came  discussion 
of  the  rumor  that  he  was  to  build  a  fine,  large 
house  precisely  like  the  Pleasant  Hill  mansion, 
— but  where  the  sisters  hadn't  heard.  He  told 
them  of  a  small  eminence  not  far  from  the  new 
chapel  on  the  Valley  road,  for  which  he  had  be 
gun  to  negotiate.  They  both  approved  the  loca 
tion,  Mrs.  Sinclair  saying  it  was  just  what  she 
and  Maria  had  ofteen  said  ought  to  be  improved. 
"  But  '  precisely  like '  doesn't  mean  with  a  bal 
cony  all  around  it, — the  same  as  your  father's, 
does  it?"  said  Mrs.  Sinclair. 

"  Yes.  Oh,  yes !  "  he  hastily  returned.  "  I 
mean  to  have  it  in  every  particular  the  same. 


318  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

With  the  improvement,  I  ought  to  say,  that  Mr. 
Marston  has  introduced — the  gymnasium." 

"  So  large  as  that? "  asked  Miss  Maria. 
"  And  your  sister  not  coming  to  live  there  with 
you?" 

"  Occasionally,  she  will  come,  I  hope,"  he  re 
plied. 

"  You,  alone,  in  such  a  large  house ! "  ex 
claimed  Mrs1.  Sinclair.  Why !  you  ought  to  have 
a  companion  there,  surely." 

"  I  hope,"  he  stammered,  "  I  trust,  yes,  let  me 
say  I  trust  I  shall, — I  shall  have  a  companion 
when  the  house  is  ready  to  be  occupied."  As  he 
spoke  he  threw  a  meaning  glance  of  his  fine, 
gray  eyes  directly  in  to  Miss  Maria's  beautiful 
blue  eyes,  now  swimming  in  tears. 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke;  the  silence  was 
getting  oppressive.  Mrs.  Sinclair  broke  it  by 
asking  if  the  date  was  fixed  for  starting  again 
the  Goodrich  Mill,  of  which  he  had  previously 
told  her. 

"  Mr.  James  Marston  is  to  set  that  date,"  he 
returned;  and  then  apologized  for  remaining  so 
long,  explaining  that  he  had  an  engagement  else 
where. 

"  But  you  will  come  again?  "  said  Miss  Maria. 

"  O,  certainly,  if  you  wish,"  he  returned, — 
"  only  not  every  day,  as  I  have  lately,"  and  he 
left  them  quietly. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  319 

"  Why  did  he  say  that,  I  wonder?  "  said  Mrs. 
Sinclair. 

"  Well,"  returned  Miss  Maria  in  a  grave,  deep 
voice — showing  the  restraint  she  was  keeping  on 
her  feelings,  "  I  suppose  my  illness  has  taken  up 
too  much  of  his  time — coming  as  he  has  every 
day,  so  long — just  to  ask  how  I  do.  Just  out  of 
politeness  (you  know  he  was  always  careful  to 
show  politeness)  not  because  of  any  special  re 
gard. 

"  More  than  that/'  said  Mrs.  Sinclair.  Seeing 
the  tearful  gaze  of  Maria  fixed  on  his  figure 
passing  down  the  road,  she  added,  "  Come — you 
are  getting  too  tired.  We'll  both  go  up  stairs 
and  rest  awhile." 

When  Dr.  Hamilton  reached  his  office  he 
found  a  telegram  from  David  Ingersoll  awaiting 
his  reply.  The  machine  had  arrived,  but  no  one 
in  Philadelphia  knew  how  to  put  it  together  and 
set  in  operation; — explicit  directions  must  be 
immediately  sent  by  telegraph,  or  he  himself 
come  on  as  soon  as  possible  and  attend  to  it. 
There  was  no  time  for  deliberation.  He  sent  a 
return  message  that  he  would  take  the  midnight 
train  and  be  in  Philadelphia  the  next  day.  Then 
he  hurried  to  the  Marstons — told  them  of  this 
sudden  change  in  his  arrangements — requested 
Mr.  James  Marston  to  go  on  with  matters  at  the 
Goodrich  Mill  irrespective  of  any  of  his  sugges- 


320  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

tions.  He  also  gave  him  authority  to  settle  his 
purchase  of  the  house  lot,  saying  he  would  send 
further  instructions  by  mail,  and  went  back  to 
his  office. 

After  doing  this  he  tried  to  compose  himself. 
He  had  one  quiet  hour  of  slumber,  then  some 
what  refreshed  he  started  for  Philadelphia. 
He  was  received  there  cordially,  and  at  once 
driven  to  the  factory,  where  he  saw  his  machine 
in  its  disjointed  state — yet  uninjured —  and 
immediately  set  the  workmen  to  putting 
in  proper  condition  for  use.  But  he  found  that 
they  needed  instruction  and  assistance  that  he 
only  could  impart,  and  the  probability  of 
months  spent  in  teaching  and  helping  them  was 
not  a  pleasant  prospect.  Still  he  did  not  falter; 
but  made  arrangements  for  remaining  there  at 
work ; — pride  in  the  worth  of  his  patent  making 
him  brave  to  bear  whatever  hardship  the  work 
might  exact. 

He  retired  after  the  day's  work  wearied  both 
in  body  and  brain.  But  before  going  to  bed  he 
wrote  the  letter  to  Miss  Maria  that  he  had  de 
cided  upon  the  previous  evening  and  then  mailed 
it,  full  of  hope  and  calm  trustfulness.  He  slept 
well,  happy  in  the  consciousness  of  good  inten 
tions,  and  rose  in  the  morning  full  of  courage 
for  the  day's  duties.  And  thus  for  two  days 
life  passed  smoothly,  though  harshly  and  wear- 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  321 

ily.  On  the  third  day  came  the  answer  to  his 
letter.  He  read  it  eagerly,  devoured  it  with  his 
eyes,  for  it  was  all,  and  more  than  he  expected. 
"  Yes,"  she  said  in  answer  to  his  question ;  "  no 
greater  happiness  could  I  have  than  to  devote  my 
life  to  you.  And  I  am  ready  at  any  time  to  come 
and  share  the  toilsome  life  you  are  now  leading. 
I  am  wellt  better,  because  happier  than  ever  in 
my  life." 

He  was  overjoyed — could  scarcely  command 
his  pen  to  write,  but  scrawled  a  few  lines  asking 
her  to  set  the  date  for  him  to  come,  that  they 
might  in  quiet  fashion  take  their  marriage  vows', 
and  return  to  spend  a  few  months  in  Philadel 
phia.  This  letter  also  was  duly  sent,  and  two 
days  more  brought  a  reply,  setting  the  date  of 
marriage  a  week  later. 

But  in  this  reply  he  found  some  expressions 
that  he  failed  to  understand.  One  was  that  she 
thought  she  had  better  have  him  than  Mr.  Mars- 
ton  the  guardian  of  her  children.  He  pondered 
and  puzzled  over  this  sentence  nearly  five  min 
utes  before  he  felt  willing  to  accept  the  sure  con 
clusion  that  the  writer  was  Mrs.  Maria  Mor- 
daunt!  Astounded  by  the  import  of  these 
words,  he  walked  the  floor  in  agony.  How  could 
such  a  blunder  have  been  made? — for  blunder  it 
surely  was ;  and  he  must  take  steps  to  rectify  it, 
if  possible.  But  would  she,  having  made  prep- 


322  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

arations  for  a  wedding,  grant  him  release  from 
obligation? 

The  only  course  now  to  take  was  to  return  im 
mediately  to  Pippoton,  state  the  matter  plainly 
to  his  Maria,  Miss  Maria  Mordaunt,  and  let  her 
decide. 

Giving  urgent  business  at  Pleasant  Hill  as 
excuse  to  Mr.  Ingersoll,  in  a  hastily  penned 
note,  he  took  the  earliest  train  north,  arriving 
at  Pippoton  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day. 
Stopping  for  no  refreshment,  he  went  directly 
with  the  two  replies  he  had  received  to  his  letters 
to  Mrs.  Sinclair, — a  man  haggard  from  worry 
and  loss  of  sleep. 

She  did  not  recognize  him  as  he  came  to  the 
door;  but  her  sister,  Miss  Maria,  saw  him  ap 
proaching,  and  frightened  by  his  woe-begone  ap 
pearance,  rushed  down  stairs  and  extended  her 
arms.  Fainting  and  nearly  frantic,  he  fell  on  her 
shoulder,  sobbing  fearfully. 

A  few  minutes  later  he  regained  command  of 
himself,  gave  a  hurried  account  of  the  distress 
ing  affair,  and  asked  their  advice, — Miss  Maria 
remaining  stolidly  calm  the  while,  Mrs.  Sinclair 
vehement  in  reproaches  of  "somebody" — she 
didn't  (for  she  couldn't)  name,  who  made  such 
a  shameful  blunder." 

"It  must  have  been  myself,"  he  replied.  "  I 
was  too  tired  to  have  attempted  to  write  and 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  323 

mail  such  a  letter.  Yes,  yes ;  the  fault  must  have 
been  in  the  address.  I  must  get  the  envelopes, 
and — and — " 

He  looked  pleadingly  at  Miss  Maria, — unable 
to  say  what  suddenly  rose  to  mind. 

"  She  must  decide,"  said  Miss  Maria,  with 
quiet  dignity. 

"  Get  the  envelopes  instantly,"  was  Mrs.  Sin 
clair's  stern  command. 

He  obeyed — with  the  docility  of  a  conquered 
child,  and  was  passing  up  the  entrance  to  the 
Marston  mansion  before  five  minutes  had 
elapsed,  and  just  as  Darley  drove  up  with  the 
buggy  in  which  sat  Mr.  Philip  Marston  return 
ing  from  town. 

"  How's  this?  "  cried  Mr.  Marston.  "  Thought 
you'd  gone  to  Philadelphia." 

Mrs.  Maria  Mordaunt,  needlework  in  hand, 
sat  on  the  veranda  steps.  She  threw  the  needle 
work  aside,  beaming  with  delight,  ran  to  meet 
Dr.  Hamilton.  His  pale,  sorrowful  face  gave 
her  a  chill — as  he  said  feebly — "  It's  all  a  mis 
take, — don't  welcome  me.  I  am  distressed — 
more  for  you  than  for  myself." 

"Why!  what's  up?"  asked  Philip  Marston. 
"  You  look  like  a  ghost,  Richard." 

"  I  must  see  those  envelopes,"  he  rejoined,  in 
a  tremulous  voice.  Mrs.  Mordaunt  darted,  as  if 
distraught,  up  the  steps  and  into  the  house.  Re- 


324  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

appearing  before  the  two  gentlemen  had  noticed 
her  absence,  she  thrust  the  envelopes,  without  a 
word,  into  Dr.  Hamilton's  hand. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  after  one  glance  at  the  ad 
dress,  and  then  handed  them  to  Mr.  Marston, 
"  my  horrid  scrawl  has  made  the  trouble.  Care 
lessness  —  carelessness  —  carelessness  in  little 
things — always,  always, — has  wrought  misery 
for  me." 

"  Save  us  all ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Marston — 
"  That's  so,  sure  enough !  Where's  the  dot  over 
the  i  to  make  it  Miss? — Sister  Maria,  let's  call  it 
a  joke;  don't  take  it  seriously. — Let  the  wedding 
go  to  our  neighbor's  house."  And  he  gave  her  a 
loving  pat  on  the  shoulder. 

Then  she  left  as  silently  as  before.  Returning 
in  the  same  way,  she  slipped  what  had  been  their 
contents  into  the  envelopes  that  Mr.  Marston 
held,  a  gay  laugh  disguising  the  self-contempt 
she  felt  at  the  part  she  had  played  in  this  com 
edy. 

"  Now,  Richard,"  said  Mr.  Philip  Marston, 
"  it's  up  to  you  to  have  the  wedding  on  the  day 
that  sister  Maria  suggested."  Handing  him  the 
mis-directed  letters,  he  added — "  May  good 
health  and  good  fortune  attend  you  and  your 
Maria  all  the  days  of  your  life." 

The  invitations  to  the  wedding  were  most 
carefully  penned  by  Richard  Hamilton  himself 


Miss  Maria  saw  him  approaching  and  frightened  by  his  woe 
begone  appearance,  came  down  the  stairs. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  325 

— especially  was  every  i  dotted.  And  Miss  Pau 
line  Maria  Marston  noted  their  prominent  ap 
pearance  in  each  address, — as  her  special  duty 
in  the  preparations  for  the  event.  "  No  such 
mistake  again  for  anybody,"  she  said.  "  And 
Thaddeus  Thorndike  Marston  is  to  deliver  them, 
— so  everybody  is  sure  to  get  the  right  one;  he 
never  blunders." 

Before  the  month  had  expired  Mr.  Goodwin 
requested  similar  preparations  for  the  marriage 
of  himself  and  Miss  Leonard;  which  had  been 
long  in  contemplation,  and  all  Pippoton  had  ex 
pected  for  more  than  a  year. 


326  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

COURAGE  AND  PERSEVERANCE. 

MRS.  SINCLAIR  bestirred  herself  to  see  that  the 
wedding,  in  every  particular,  should  be  accord 
ing  to  her  sister's  wishes,  and  those  wishes  were 
as  "  Richard  "  (thus  they  now  called  Dr.  Hamil 
ton)  should  dictate.  As  Dr.  Hamilton  felt  that 
his  contract  with  Mr.  Ingersoll  required  the 
quick  adjustment  of  the  machine  to  its  work, 
also  his  calm  attention  and  personal  oversight 
of  its  first  operations,  the  wedding  took  place 
at  once,  and  the  old  gray  house  was  the  scene 
of  quiet  merriment  and  real  happiness  the  next 
week. 

Always  simple  in  her  tastes,  Miss  Maria  made 
no  change  in  her  dress  for  the  occasion,  nor  in 
the  appointments  of  her  house-keeping,  and  Rich 
ard,  admiring  the  good  sense  that  characterized 
all  the  arrangements  could  only  quietly  ac 
quiesce,  and  assist  as  he  might  in  her  proceed 
ings — a  silent  but  interested  spectator  of  move 
ments  and  matters  that  were  as  riddles  to  his  un 
sophisticated  nature. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  327 

Rev.  Mr.  Sterling  who  had  shown  himself  a 
kind  and  faithful  pastor  of  the  Mordaunt  family 
through  three  generations,  performed  the  mar 
riage  service  according  to  the  usage  of  his 
church.  But  Thaddeus  Thorndike  Marston 
(and  he  wished  his  whole  name  to  be  written 
properly  in  the  record  of  that  service)  begged, 
and  obtained — as  he  usually  did — his  unusual 
desires — the  privilege  of  Rev.  Mr.  Walker's  pres 
ence  at  this  ceremony,  for  the  purpose  of  placing 
the  ring  on  the  bride's  finger,  according  to  the 
usage  of  his  church;  he,  himself — Taddy,  the 
inscrutable — with  the  ring  in  his  own  hand  till 
that  auspicious  moment,  stationed  as  closely  as 
possible  at  the  bride's  left  side,  that  he  might 
have  positive  assurance  that  everything  had 
been  done  in  regular  and  proper  order.  The 
other  boys  "  of  the  tribe  of  seven  "  being  the 
most  interested  spectators  of  the  performance, 
were  loud  in  congratulations,  and  determined 
among  themselves  to  get  up  a  repetition  of  the 
ring  scene  at  the  next  Public  of  the  School. 

No  one  would  have  supposed  that  the  bright 
and  blooming  bride  had  just  recovered  from  a 
tedious  illness;  and  it  was  a  great  surprise  to 
see  how  quickly  she  arranged  all  affairs  to  be 
left  in  Mrs.  Sinclair's  control,  and  then  made 
herself  ready  for  accompanying  her  husband  to 
Pennsylvania,  where  they  were  to  remain  till 


328  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

Harold  Marston  could  join  them,  and  all  three 
go  to  Atlanta  for  the  winter. 

In  November,  Harold  was  to  begin  operations 
upon  the  plantation  which  his  father  had  bought 
Mr.  Fred  Lambert. 

Harold,  after  making  acquaintance  the  pre 
vious  year  with  the  agents  and  overseers  of  Mr. 
Lambert's  other  plantations,  and  comparing  re 
ports  from  the  neighboring  planters,  felt  that 
with  energy  and  perseverance,  and  the  good 
stock  of  common  sense  that  he  possessed,  he 
could  soon  reclaim  much  of  the  waste. 

So  he  determined  to  begin  courageously.  His 
quiet  demeanor  and  affable,  friendly  approach 
to  these  poor,  neglected  and  despised  creatures 
won  their  hearts  at  once.  The  first  step  that  he 
took  towards  the  reformation  of  the  dreary-look 
ing  expanse,  was  to  arrange  the  field  hands  into 
squads,  and  partition  them  into  groups — for 
separate  and  more  individual  care  and  surveil 
lance.  This  first  step  systemized  matters  from 
the  beginning,  and  as  he  began,  so  he  continued 
regulating  all  the  business  by  simple  rules  and 
careful  calculations. 

As  the  weather  became  cooler,  Mr.  James 
Marston  began  to  think  of  winter  arrangements ; 
feeling  that  he  had  enjoyed  the  hospitality  of  his 
brother  long  enough.  He  determined,  after  get 
ting  the  Mill  into  successful  operation,  to  make 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  329 

a  home  for  himself,  his  boys  and  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Maria  Mordaunt,  and  her  children.  He  soon 
found  a  desirable  house,  quietly  made  all  ar 
rangements  for  the  change,  and  then  merrily  in 
vited  all  the  Marstons  to  assist  him  in  opening 
what  he  facetiously  called  a  "  beehive  "  on  the 
Valley  Road,  about  a  mile  from  Pleasant  Hill. 

The  beehive  was  much  admired,  and  Mr. 
Philip  Marston  congratulated  his  brother  on  its 
excellent  location.  "  You'll  gather  here  honey, 
and  make  wax  enough  to  supply  the  whole  vil 
lage  "  he  said. 

Grandmother  Marston  was  much  interested  in 
the  boys  of  "  the  tribe  of  seven "  and  though 
Pleasant  Hill  was  more  quiet  after  her  son 
James  took  his  boys  to  the  beehive,  she  insisted 
that  once  a  week  they  should  come  for  a  short 
talk  with  her.  She  was  much  pleased  to  know 
that  Harold  had  decided  to  take  what  she  called 
"  a  common  sense  view  "  of  study ;  and  she  tried 
to  show  Melvin  and  Lewis  how  to  study  the  won 
derful  things  in  nature  which  they  had  never 
noticed.  She  felt  persuaded  that  the  knowledge 
Harold  had  gained  by  such  study  had  led  him  to 
be  contented — yes! — to  be  satisfied  with  the 
change  which  his  ill  health  required.  And  she 
was  happy  in  the  thought  that  he  had  found  out 
that  a  college  education  was  not  indispensible 
to  success  in  life.  Now  that  he  had  discovered 


330  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

i 
through  pain  and  disappointment,  that  he  had 

been  mistaken, — that  his  vocation  was  to  be  the 
improvement  of  others,  rather  than  the  gratifi 
cation  of  his  ambition  to  be  a  noted  man,  she 
determined  that  all  "  the  tribe  of  seven  "  should 
be  led  to  see  the  beauty  and  the  wisdom  of  such 
a  vocation,  though  it  should  prove  a  life  work. 

In  the  Christmas  vacation,  Walter  Dinsmore, 
spending  most  of  the  weeks  at  Hillsford  with  his 
parents,  came  several  times  to  Pleasant  Hill. 
He  had  received  two  interesting  letters  from 
Harold  which  he  knew  all  the  Marstons  would 
like  to  see,  and  he  was  eager  to  hear  what  they 
had  heard  about  the  doings  at  "  Casa  Coreggio, 
the  House  of  Courage."  Harold,  an  admirer  of 
George  MacDonald,  the  Scotch  author,  had  taken 
this  name  which  MacDonald  had  given  his  own 
house,  to  designate  the  rude  cabin  in  which  he 
lived  on  the  cotton  plantation.  It  surely  was  an 
appropriate  name  for  he  was  finding  need  of 
great  courage  in  his  efforts  in  assisting  the  poor, 
lazy,  shiftless  "  crackers "  to  a  better  mode  of 
life  in  the  dilapidated  cottages  they  occupied. 

"  I  want  to  know  if  you  have  heard  that  Dr. 
Hamilton's  elegant  new  house  is  on  fire?  " 

It  was  Mrs.  Nelson's  strident  voice  that  spoke, 
and  she  went  on  rapidly  to  say  that  the  carpen 
ters  had  just  left  when  flames  burst  forth,  and 
the  fire  department  was  unable  to  check  them." 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  331 

Barley,  at  the  first  cry  of  fire,  had  put  Charley 
into  the  buggy,  presuming  that  all  Pippoton 
would  be  alarmed,  had  rushed  to  Mr.  James 
Marston  for  particulars,  and  then  to  the  office 
for  Mr.  Philip.  On  his  way  there  he  saw  Tom  and 
Edith  eager  to  get  home;  and  the  rest  of  the 
tribe  of  seven,  returning  from  the  fire,  overtook 
them,  and  followed  on,  crowding  the  old  buggy 
to  its  widest  extent. 

Mrs.  Marston  met  her  husband  at  the  door 
and  in  a  few  minutes  he  gave  her  a  succint  ac 
count  of  the  unfortunate  affair.  "  James  has 
telegraphed  the  doctor,  and  I  followed  it  with  a 
few  words  to  Harold — expect  a  return  telegram 
in  ten  minutes  now,"  he  said.  Before  he  had 
finished  speaking,  Mr.  James  Marston,  on  horse 
back,  came  up  the  driveway,  swinging  his  hat 
cheerily  and  spreading  a  document  for  them  all 
to  see. 

"  Strict  orders !  "  he  cried,  "  from  Casa  Corcg- 
giol " 

All  the  children  flocked  round  as  he  stepped 
from  the  horse,  kissed  Grandmother  effusively 
and  shook  hands  with  Mr.  James  and  his  wife, 
then  shouted — "  It's  a  pretty  gay  how-de-do 
down  there  to-night !  That  doctor's  a  brick — and 
no  mistake!  Hear  what  he  says,  every  one  of 
you." 

Taking  Mrs.  Mary  Marston  and  Grandmother, 


332  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

both,  by  the  arm,  he  passed  to  the  parlor  and 
seated  them,  then  slowly  read  the  telegram. 

"  Glad  of  it.— Scrape  up  the  cinders— bury  them— sell  the  lot — 
worst  blunder  yet— I  want  the  money  here." 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Philip?"  he 
asked. 

"  He's  getting  down  to  bed-rock,  that  fellow 
is — solid,  good  metal,  after  all,"  was  the  re 
sponse.  "  It's  the  best  thing  he's  done  yet.  He 
wants  to  chip  in  with  Harold — colleague,  coad 
jutor — what  you  will." 

"  But,  Maria — just  think  of  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Mary  Marston.  How  will  she  like  it?  " 

"  Like  it?  she'll  be  with  him,  heart  and  soul; 
a  piece  of  rescue-work — don't  you  see?"  re 
marked  Grandmother. 

"  Rescue — rescue — what's  that?  anything  like 
knitting- work?  'Cos  if  'tis,  I'll  help,"  said  Polly. 

"  Ge — ge — get  the  dictionary,"  stammered 
Tad,  eager  to  show  his  interest. 

Roland  and  Robert  started  to  get  it. 

"  No,  no !  Not  that  old  rickety  book !  Papa 
will  explain,"  said  Tom. 

"Just  what  Harold  considers  his  business," 
answered  the  father,  very  seriously.  "  And  I'll 
endorse  any  and  all  they  do  in  that  line." 

"  We  must  get  letters1,  I  think — by  Thursday, 
surely,"  said  Mr.  James  Marston. 


THE  CLOSED  BALCONY.  333 

Letters  came  from  Casa  Coreggio — but  not  till 
Saturday, — and  the  tribe  of  seven  must  have  the 
contents  read  in  their  presence,  when  all  were 
assembled,  (Duncan,  of  course,  included)  for 
their  regular  weekly  visit  in  Grandmother's 
room. 

Mr.  Philip  Marston  deputed  Tom  to  read 
Harold's  letter  first.  It  was  very  short, — he  had 
no  time  for  more  than  a  brief  statement  of  plan 
tation  matters,  beside  expressing  his  delight  at 
the  offer  of  Dr.  Hamilton  to  become  his  partner 
and  of  Mrs.  Hamilton  to  assist  in  teaching. 

Dr  Hamilton's  letter  to  Mr.  James  Marston 
gave  a  hurried  account  of  his  winter  thus  far — 
"  merely  a  visit,"  he  wrote ; 

•'  but  I  shall  remain,  and  with  my  wife  hope  to  do  something  for 
the  comfort  and  improvement  of  these  wretched  people.  I  am 
ashamed  when  I  think  how  I  wasted  my  abilities,  merely  to 
gratify  my  ambition  to  be  considered  an  inventor.  Now  I'm  to 
build  a  settlement  house, — comfortable  quarters  for  all  the  fam 
ilies,  with  chapel  and  schoolhouse.  So  please  sell  the  house-lot 
and  forward  the  cash  immediately,  for  I  am  impatient  to  start 
the  building  before  I  make  another  blunder.  Stupid  and  selfish 
I  have  been  ;  now,  I  shall  try  to  make  amends  for  my  folly  by  fol 
lowing  the  example  of  your  excellent  nephew.  Noble  fellow, 
that  he  is,  his  courage  and  energy  have  led  me  to  this  decision  : 
and  my  good  wife  not  only  commends  this  sudden  resolution  of 
mine,  but  insists  on  helping  me  in  the  work.  Please  note  that 
our  home  is  now— Coso,  Corregio — the  house  of  courage,  and  we 
take  up  our  life-work  courageously." 

"  Our  O—O— Oldie,  isn't  it?  "  stammered  Tad- 
die,  sighing  dolefully. 

"  Yes,  yes — noble  fellow ! "  added  Polly. 
"  But  you  can't  be,  if  you  don't  cure  yourself 
of  talking  that  way." 


334  THE  CLOSED  BALCONY. 

"  Courage  and  perseverance,  my  son,"  said  Mr. 
Philip  Mars  ton,  laying  his  hand  tenderly  on  the 
stiff  wisps  of  Taddie's  cropped  hair,  "  will  bring 
good  results.  And  I'm  proud  that  a  son  of  mine 
proves  their  value." 

"  Thaddeus  Thorndike  Marston,  youngest  son 
of  his  father,  has  equal  abilities  and  will  prob 
ably  prove  the  same,"  said  Grandmother,  with  a 
loving  pat  on  the  boy's  shoulder. 

"  I  think,"  said  again  Mr.  Philip  Marston,  in 
quiet,  thoughtful  tones,  "  that  Dr.  Hamilton  will 
return  in  a  few  years  as  Governor  of  one  of  our 
Southern  States."  Seeing  a  smile  on  his  wife's 
jubilant  eager  face,  he  went  on  merrily — "  to  ex 
ploit  the  resources  of  our  abandoned  farms." 

"  And  build  for  himself  a  fine  stone  house ! " 
exclaimed  Polly. 

"  Like  Judge  Morton's,"  added  Taddie,  clap 
ping  his  hands  with  delight. 

"  From  the  granite  ledge  on  the  Valley 
Road ! "  cried  Roland.  "  Fine ! — fine  indeed.  " 

"  And  we'll  give  him  a  grand  ovation — can't 
we,  father?  "  asked  Edith,  with  a  hearty  grasp  of 
her  father's  hand. 

"  What  does  your  mother  say?  "  he  rejoined. 

"  Courage — heart  work — real  heart — work 
with  steady  perseverance"  returned  Mrs.  Mars- 
ton,  "  will  accomplish  wonders." 

THE  END. 


The  Lieutenant 


T/ie  Girl  and 


The  Viceroy 


By 

MARSHALL 
PUTNAfl 
THOMPSON 

The  Story  of  an  American  Lieutenant, 

a  Patriotic  Beauty  and  a  Spanish 

Viceroy  in  South  America 

F  you  would  read  a  romance,  founded  on 
South  American  and  American  history,  a 
romance  that  will  stir  your  blood  and  hold 
your  attention  from  the  moment  you  begin 
until  you  have  read  the  last  page,  by  all  means  read 
"  The  Lieutenant,  The  Girl  and  The  Viceroy."  Not 
a  dry  or  prosy  page  in  the  whole  book.  Beautifully 
written  and  cleverly  told.  Correct  in  historic  infor 
mation,  but  romantic  in  conception. 

ILLUSTRATED         ...         CLOTH    BOUND 

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THE      ROMANCE      OF      A      POET 

HIGHLAND 
MARY 

By 
CLAYTON  MACKENZIE  LEGGE 

The  Sweetest  Story  Ever  Told 
Re-Told  in  a  New  Way 


A  novel  of  more  than  ordinary  interest, 
portraying  many  important  characters 
and  telling  for  the  first  time  in  fiction 
the  sweet  love  story  of  "Bobby  Burns" 
and  Highland  Mary. 


ILLUSTRATED  ...  CLOTH  BOUND 

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£T*1        D    77 

9  *  *  I  he  Belle 
of  the  Bluerrass 

J  o 

Country  *  •  * 


By  H.  D.  PITTMAN 


^  This  is  a  bit  of  real  literature  that  should  be  in 
every  library.  It  is  a  story  of  strong  heart-interest 
with  scenes  laid  in  the  picturesque  state  of  Kentucky. 
It  depicts,  as  no  previous  novel  does,  people  and  places 
in  the  famous  "Blue  Grass"  state  soon  after  the  close 
of  the  Civil  war.  The  "Belle"  is  one  of  the  sweet 
est,  most  lovable  characters  in  modern  fiction,  and  her 
little  love  story  cannot  but  interest  everyone.  The 
reader  fairly  scents  the  waving  grass,  the  fragrant  flowers 
of  old  Kentucky. 


Bound  in  Cloth    and    Beautifully  Illustrated 
with  Photogravure  and  Frontispiece  in  Colon 


Price  $1.50 

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